


Constant

by Judgement



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Blood and Gore, F/M, Reader-Insert, Romance, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7005646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judgement/pseuds/Judgement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>INDEFINITE HIATUS</p><p>"Who are you?" He questions, only receiving the smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.</p><p>"Your constant."</p><p>For years and years to come you would be just that, his constant and anchor to the world around him, when all else was lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leave your Body

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Captain America movies or the characters involved. Just the fanmade story you are reading.

There was very little that you had that they didn't take away from you, and even the things you did have you weren't sure you owned. The hair that fell over your shoulders tied up nice and pretty with a red ribbon. Red like the blood that they constantly spilled from you in sick fascination. The clothes that adorn you weren't your own, some sick fantasy and some sick doctor who wanted to dress you up like a doll. That was before he decided like a brutal child did, to tear you apart literally and figuratively. 

The heels that clicked loudly down the eerily quiet hallway weren't your own, apart of the outfit you wore. So it was so confusing to you, for what they told you, what was expected of you. So foreign and how long had it been since you had something that wasn't taken away, ripped away so terribly after you had just gotten used to it.

They never liked attachments, and who were you to complain? The cold walls were all you had ever known, all they allowed you to remember. Your memories weren't even sacred in this place, they weren't your own, they were what they wanted them to be.

You were what they wanted you to be.

Your hands trembled and you let go of the front of your dress to bring your hands up, tilting your head down to stare at them like they were entirely foreign to you. Were you nervous, excited? Maybe it was fear, maybe you would get attached and they would rip it away again to remind you that everything you had was temporary. Everything in the world was temporary, except for Hydra.

Hydra was forever.

Your trembling fingers curled into the palm of your hand before you dropped them back down to your sides, brushing up against the dirty fabric of your dress. The turns were familiar, and your heart was pounding but your face remained neutral, you weren't sure what fear was if this was it. Or if it was a mixture of jumbled emotions, you didn't remember what they didn't want you to. Feelings were one of those things lost with the rest of yourself thanks to Hydra, to the very machine you were heading to that had taken yet another victim.

The soldiers around you stopped just a few steps in front of the door, flanking you on all sides as you turned on your heel and rose one hand up to knock on the steel. Each knock like a deafening bang in the hallways but no one flinched, you nor the soldiers so much as breathed.

"Come in, come in!"

The door swung open and you were greeted by the enthusiastic Dr. Zola, whom you greeted with a low nod of your head.

"Ah. Ms. [Last Name], just on time! Our newest soldier has just awakened. Such a prime subject."

He was sitting there on the familiar machine, metallic arm shifting as the man studied it - like a foreign object attached to himself and the feeling you could understand. 

"Come, come." He motions you closer and you don't hesitate to step forward, his hand coming to rest on your lower back as your hands fold politely in front of you. "He is now Hydra's "Winter Soldier" do you like the name?" He questions, giddy with fingers tightening to hold onto you.

"It's fitting," Your voice is void, and it only pleases him the more. "I think so too, taken and turned into our beautiful, wonderful, perfect, emotionless assassin. Cold to the bone, just like the weather we rescued you from."

His glee filled laughter echoed down the halls and no one made to move until the fit subsided.

"But I did not call you down to just simply introduce you to our newest asset. You are to be his handler, Ms. [Last Name]."

You blinked in surprise, eyes widening only a fraction that went unnoticed by all. His handler? But they had never given you anything to take care of, to hold on to. Your fingers brushed against the fabric of the front of your dress, longing to curl your fingers into it.

"Permission to speak, Dr. Zola." He hummed in delight, finally moving away to do something else at one of his tables, but you made no move.

"Permission granted."

"May I request to know why I am his handler, and not someone more fitting."

He wasn't the first soldier that was made by Hydra, and you had seen many, many lose their minds in Hydra's base before whatever they did to them eventually came undone and the "perfect soldier" always ended up dying a brutal, and horrible death.

"My dear, he is far too strong, far too dangerous to allow anyone else watch over him. Only you are fitted."

 _Ah._ That was why they needed you, a survivor to handle him should he ever lose it. Many others had tried and failed, maybe they hoped after all this time you could step up to the plate. 

"Thank you." You spoke quietly, to the fact Dr. Zola even bothered to answer your questions at all. The Winter Soldier was eying you curiously, bright vivid and harsh eyes taking you in, sizing you up and wondering what you would if the situation were reversed. 

How could a small thing like you stop him?

"My dear, he is to remain in your care. He has lots of training to attend to, to get used to his arm among other things. You will be his caretaker in regards to his handler. Make sure he eats, bathes, and is at training _on time_." 

"Of course." Your voice was void and as Dr. Zola continued to shuffle around the room he paused only for a moment.

"Is there a reason you are still here?"

"Living arrangements, Dr. Zola." You spoke quietly, and he hummed before throwing a dismissive hand.

"You are his handler, he will stay with you. Now go, I have much to do. Much to document and report." With a bow of your head, you looked to the Winter Soldier and motioned for him to follow. He hesitated only a brief moment before standing up, his height towering over your own and you inclined your head to meet his eyes before turning on your heel. The dress you wore spun around with you and as you exited the room, the guards who had escorted you were gone.

There was no exchange of words for the longest time as you lead him down the winding hallways, a maze to anyone who didn't live here. A maze to you each time you forgot, and the same for others.

"You don't fit in here." He speaks after awhile, voice quiet and muffled, barely above a whisper.

A small smile graces the features of your face as you only glance back at him, head turned only a fraction so he can see the amused way your lips tilt.

"None of us do."

He is silent for awhile, contemplating what you mean with furrowed eyebrows but you don't say any more on the matter and he still feels the urge to question what you mean, but he gets the feeling you won't elaborate.

"Who are you?"

You stop for a moment and he halts as well, your head tilts back as you contemplate his answer and finally you answer his question.

"Your constant."

You don't elaborate further and the answers he gets leave him with only more questions, and he decides to leave the conversation there. With footsteps that are harsh, heavy, something he will have to get rid of if he wishes to live out the life Hydra has planned for him.

"Here," You introduce the door to him, stopping beside it and holding out your arm. "This is where we are staying." He waits a heartbeats moment before pushing the door open, the metal groans in loud protest and what's inside is nothing exciting.

Two beds pressed up against either side of the room, one dismal skylight that showcased the dust lingering in the air. A nightstand between the two beds and a footlocker at the end of each. It felt nothing like a home, and he could only notice that it didn't look like anyone lived in here to begin with.

"Where is yours?"

You blink in confusion and tilt your head and gesture to the bed on the right. "Mine is here." There is a hint of confusion in your voice like you aren't sure you understand what he means and he simply stares at the bed you motion to.

"It doesn't look like its been lived in."

He's not met with a response, but only a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. None of them do. 

"Come. I will show you to the cafeteria, and where Dr. Zola will be holding your training sessions."

* * *

It's a long time before you return to the bedroom the two of you share, having thoroughly explored the compound as much as you were able. Informing of where he would be spending most of his time, where basic things were like the cafeteria and labs were. The medic bay that was void of life but felt of death, and that many seemed to avoid even when they were injured.

The door groaned for a second time as you opened it and stepped through the raised opening of the door, allowing your now roommate to follow in. The small door just in front of the foot of your bed was open revealing a dark and gloomy bathroom.

"You may clean up there, towels are already in there."

He watches for a moment as you move to sit on your bed, carefully taking your shoes off and tucking them underneath your bed before resting back. The bed squeaks in protest against your weight though he can't see how you would weigh very much. But the rusty railings at each end tell him it has little to do with weight and he moves to the bathroom.

Dr. Zola had already sent someone here, as the duffle bag in the bathroom holds clothes fit for him. The shower is only warm for a brief moment before it turns ice cold, like the frigid temperatures outside and the peaceful soothing moment against his aching arm is gone. The water comes to a screeching halt with the turn of a knob and he steps out to the towels set out and dries himself off before switching into something more comfortable in the bag.

He steps out into the room with bare feet against the cold metal and glances instinctively over to your quiet form. Curled up above the blankets and apparently fast asleep, the slow even breaths with each rise and fall of your chest. Hands folded neatly across your stomach, and for an eerie moment, if he couldn't see you clearly breathing, he would feel like he was rooming with a neatly displayed corpse.

Stepping across the room quietly he sets the bag in front of his footlocker and opens the metal case quietly. Opening the locker to find a blanket which is quickly snatched up and the metal locker is closed and he moves to his own bed. Sitting on it and throwing the blanket out, the night is cold and the hair plastered to his face only make him feel slightly colder. 

He reaches toward the light and with one last glance toward you, he flicks it off and his gaze drifts toward the skylight. Watching the pieces of dust float across the moon's rays that filter through the skylight, and before he knows anything the sweet embrace of sleep takes him.


	2. Lose my Mind

He wakes once in the middle of the night to the groan and squeak of your bed and he feels the heavy fog of sleep still clouding his mind. Eyes barely open and he sees your legs as you stand up and walk to the bathroom. Briefly thinking to himself that once you were done in the shower he would take one to wake up as well.

The next time he wakes up, there is sun beginning to shift into the skylight as the door groans open and he blinks away the sleep haze, body still recovering from the excruciating torture he had been through only the night before. His body protests being woken when it still so readily needed to recover but as someone steps into the room he can feel the inner workings of instinctive nature pulling him out of the fog of sleep and he jerks upright ready for a fight.

What he sees surprises him but he makes no move, and his face doesn't show it. Hydra soldier carrying your body, with the dress you once wore now in tattered rags, stained red in so many places you wouldn't think it had been any other color.

He drops your body with a loud thump and you are motionless, and the Winter Soldier can feel his heart hammering as he maneuvers his way out of the bed, never turning away from the Hydra soldier who only sneers. 

"Take her. Dr. Zola is done with his tests."

Tests? His eyes flick down to your motionless body but it isn't until the soldier has stepped out, and the door groans to a close behind him does the Winter Soldier approach you. Fingers from his one good arm searching for a pulse on the soft skin of your neck, somehow completely unmarred compared to the tests you seem to have endured.

A groan escapes past your lips, quiet but the steady beating pulse beneath his fingers lets him know you are alive. But the questions of why you are completely soaked in blood, the dress nothing more than a makeshift bloody bandage to the wound that no longer was there.

Your eyes snap open and your head tilts up to him, and he shifts only slightly and removes his hand from your neck.

"Good morning." Is your unusual response and it takes him a moment before he responds with a simple nod, backing away to give you space. You move like nothing has occurred like you hadn't been dropped on cold metal flooring.

"What happened?" His voice is rough and you are examining the remains of your dress. The blood will not come out and even if it were to, it was nothing but rags now, barely clinging together to cover anything decent.

Not that anything was decent or sacred in Hydra.

"Tests." Was your quiet response, another short ended answer that tells him you're not going to answer or elaborate further. It's frustrating but he has to remind himself not to care, what does it matter to him anyway.

Your shower is cold, leaving all remains of hot water for the Winter Soldier as you strip beneath the freezing waters. Pulling off the dress that sticks to your unmarred skin and letting the blood from it and on your skin flow down the drain. Tracing the spots on your body where the tests took place, and with a sigh you finish the shower to allow the Winter Soldier his own peace. Dr. Zola would want tests soon, and you could not be the reason he is late.

Each step you take is soft, bare feet against cold metal while the Winter Soldier's shoes are heavy, stomping, almost. Down the corridors you go, weaving your ways through the maze until the glass doors reveal the training rooms where physical capabilities are pushed to awful limits.

"Ah, just on time!" Dr. Zola hums in approval as the two of you step into the room. He sets down his documents and motions for the Winter Solider to follow him and without further instruction yourself you take a seat on one of the available chairs and wait for further orders.

Each step of the training room is meant to push past your physical breaking point. From the time limits to each test pushing muscles until they ached and threatened to give out. The sweat beads down the side of his face and his breath is labored as he hefts himself up the wall, the clicking of the stop watching ringing in his ears. The threat of another punishment if he didn't make the time weighing on his minds, and the thought of physical torture for failing to meet the time is enough to heft himself up the rest of the wall and up to the top. The stopwatch flicks off and Dr. Zola clicks his tongue in disapproval.

"You made the time," He says obviously dissatisfied. "But by meager seconds. Hopefully, in time, you will improve this.. dismal performance." Steeling himself and clenching his jaw tight he says nothing as Dr. Zola motions him to come down, while signaling you from the other room.

"Come, come. Time for some hand to hand."

The Winter Soldier drops down like lead, a heavy thud as he walks over to the larger area of the room, wide enough for hand to hand combat. But there is no mats, no mercy and each fall to the ground will be on cold hard metal.

"You want me to fight her?" He speaks in almost disbelief, but Dr. Zola laughs and turns to him, obviously unimpressed by his sudden incredulous question.

"Trust me, it won't be much of a fight."

Winter Soldier sets his jaw tight as you pad into the middle of the room with him, the same expression devoid of life. [Color] eyes reaching up to his as you roll your shoulders before spreading your feet apart and awaiting him. He's curious to know what you can do, how you can be qualified to handle him if you can't walk yourself back from Dr. Zola's tests, excruciating as they are. It's a chance to find out, and he can't fight back the orders of Dr. Zola and moves quickly, closing the distance.

His fist strikes out, intent on hitting you square in the face but you've simply stepped away from him, guiding his outstretched arm past your form. Rerouting all his momentum into wasted energy but he shifts, blow after blow aimed toward you, hoping for one a knockout hit.

But you're nearly impossible to hit, anything he manages to land is nothing but a skim against a body part. A feathered touch against your skin as you escape from each hit, your feet twist and turn and remind him of a ballet dancer. Each step controlled, quiet and light, able to keep yourself moving and backing away.

But that's all you're doing, backing away and dodging him. If wearing him down was your goal he wasn't going to let it happen, invading your personal space but he doesn't throw any punches, he attempts to grab you a couple time but you flutter away from his outstretched hand. Frustration mounts and he backs you into a corner, back pressed against the wall and he rears his metal arm back. Each plate shifting to accommodate the power he's about to unleash, blind with frustration.

His vision goes black for a second, the impact jogging his brain and he takes a few steps back to see the palm of your hand outstretched, having hit him right in the jaw. You had cornered yourself on purpose to get a hit in and can feel his anger spike as he rears his arm back again. It meets the wall and the metal groans and caves in against his might. You've moved away from his hit again.

"End this!" Impatience laces the Dr.'s tone and before he can retaliate there's a pressure against his temple and his vision goes black.

* * *

It comes back like water rushing over him and pouring through his veins and he jerks up with a start. The bed beneath him shrieks with the sudden movement, and he stares against the cold metal of your shared room before turning to see your figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I apologize." Is the first thing that spills from your mouth. "Most of them say they wake with a headache." You offer out a glass of water which he takes and swallows down, dehydrated from the training and the pulsing in his temple throbs from it.

"Where did you learn that?" He says after downing the glass and setting it on the nightstand that separates the two of you. Your eyes flick away from his and your hands, which he's noticed is your biggest tell, dig into the cotton fabric of your pants. 

"I've had many years of practice." Hydra expects nothing less if you've lived this long. He doesn't question it, doesn't expect any more answers.

"Shall we get some food?"

* * *

It was barely a dinner of substance and was about as appetizing as it looked. Bland food that barely gave anything and he could understand now why you probably looked so tiny. But the trip back is quiet, no words or discussion between the two of you and it follows a awkward nightly routine. Neither quite used to the other being in their space, but finally, the beds squeak individually with added weight as the two of you get settled for the night. The lamp clicks off shortly after and though he's exhausted and watching the dust flicker through the moon's gaze, it is not enough to lull him to sleep, like sheep.

Your bed squeaks as you shift, and he glances toward your form as you lay on your side facing away from him. The fleece blanket the only thing keeping either of you from the frigid winter cold.

"How long have you been here?" He asks before he can stop himself and really consider the question. 

You don't answer for the longest time, fingers curling into the fabric of your blanket, nails dragging along it up and down. "Awhile." It's not the response he wants, you know. But who can blame you? 

The days of opening up to people, letting them in and feeling so utterly _human_ are gone. You are not human, you are Hydra's ultimate weapon. Weapons don't get people, or things, they get told what to do. Any piece you felt was yours was always ripped away without mercy.

You can still see the blood of those who you had felt were yours, laying at your feet. The Winter Soldier would be no different in the end, another bloodstain on the metal, another body to line the rest. 

"How long?" He repeats and it surprises you. Eyes opening to peer at the metal wall before you, and you let out a soft sigh with shoulders sagging.

"Long enough."

The conversation ends.

* * *

He's thrashing in his sleep, the blankets hazardously thrown to the ground between both your beds and you watch his expression as he fights with the nightmares. Festering dreams of what once was, what is, and what never was. Fighting off things he remembers and things he doesn't want to. You remember those nights well, the machine may take the memories away while you're awake, but you never forget, not really.

The bed squeals loudly as he shifts on the bed, face drawn with scowl lines and suddenly he's shouting. Loud enough to wake nearby rooms and loud enough for you to get in trouble, and though you aren't fond of waking a soldier in his sleep you resign to it and throw your own covers off of you.

* * *

He's running away from them, through the forest and through the trees but no matter what he does to gain distance, they are always there increasing in on him instead of fading away.

His lungs ache like liquid fire and his legs throb with each heavy pound on the snow covered ground, each breath making him achingly aware of how close he was to collapsing.

It was only a matter of time before his foot doesn't touch the ground, but hits a knotted route hidden by the snow and sends him face first into the ground. Sputtering out freezing cold snow and shaking him to the core, the footsteps and yells are closer and he hefts himself up and takes to the trees. They cover him like a shadow and the people chasing him split into different pathways. 

He hears the crunch of snow before he sees his target, weary with a rifle up. Snow coating their hat and dusting their clothes, blanketing them and he stops, crouching low as he hears something up ahead. It gives him a chance, gives the Winter Soldier the opportunity to sneak up on him unaware and so he does.

Fingers wrapping around the neck and kicking the gun away before he can fire it and alert the others. The mission hadn't meant to go so wrong but he can fix it. 

The metal of his arm shifts as his fingers clench down harder, gurgling sounds of his target that flounders and attempts to pry his hands away to no avail. With a quick twist the neck snaps, the sound rattling in his head as his breathing remains labored from the heavy run. 

The body collapses to the ground and the Winter Soldier moves to make sure he's done for, taking his body and tossing them onto their back and suddenly his throat is constricting. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes are looking up at him, dead to the world.

He wakes with a start, his hands are stiff around something solid and he blinks rapidly before his entire body seizes. His hands so tightly wrapped around your neck, twisted to the side from the snap just like in his dream, and your face is devoid of life, blank eyes staring at him and without thinking he lets go. Watching in silent horror as your body slumps against the edge of his, lifeless, and collapses with a heavy thud beside his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So before people ask and get confused! There is a reason you, the reader, act the way you do so neutral and apathetic. And there is a reason you managed to beat Bucky in a fight.
> 
> So I uh.. Hope this chapter is a good addition to the first, and not a let down.. Let me know what you think? Also I wanna thank everyone for their kudo's and the anon for the comment. ♡ Means a lot, really, thank you.
> 
> Also my end notes are duplicating and not entirely sure why..
> 
> This was not beta-read, so please forgive any mistakes.


	3. Run you down

There's a growing sense of urgency in his chest as he swallows hard, trying to comprehend what just happened. Your lifeless body sprawled out on top of the blankets he had thrown off in the night. His hands are trembling and he knows he should check for a pulse but your neck, your neck is twisted at such an angle he _knows_ there isn't going to be one.

He's killed his handler.

His first thought is to get someone, but get someone to do what? Remove the body? There were sure to be repercussions to killing you, he hadn't meant to.

Pushing himself off the bed to kneel beside you, he reaches a hand out tentatively before pulling it back and turning away. No, he had to get someone to remove you he had to-

_Snap._

It's a sickening sound just like in his dream, but so much louder. Head turning to the side he watches the blankets bend before he turns on his heel. You're laying there with eyes open rubbing your neck, no longer twisted at an angle. The lifeless eyes of the dead were replaced by the familiar void ones.

"What?" His voice is a raspy whisper and his hands are still trembling, so he curls them into fists and stares at you as you sit yourself up.

"I killed you." His eyes are wide, and he is frustrated and there's still fleeting panic within his body but he's just utterly _confused_ at it all.

"Did you?" You question sitting up and rolling your shoulders, there's another pop in your neck and you shake your head before pulling yourself into a sitting position. "You can't kill me Winter Soldier." Your voice is set, like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Like he hadn't just choked the life out of you and snapped your neck in his sleep.

He watches you stand up and sit back on your bed, ready to go back to sleep as if nothing ever happened. The panic in his chest turns to irritation that leads to _anger_. How were you to just go back to sleep without offering any explanation?

He had _killed_ you. He knew it.

He stands up fast, and you look up at him, his jaw clenching tight. 

"Tell me." He demands, using his height as an intimidation factor as his hands remain curled into tight fists. "I killed you, I know I did. Your neck was _snapped_ , and you can't just go back to sleep and pretend it never happened when it _did_."

There were so many things he didn't understand, didn't remember and talking with you was like grasping at straws and hoping whatever he pulled made sense to what he was asking. It was frustrating and a bit maddening but he had dealt with it. But not this, he would get his answers.

Your eyes peered into his blue ones, hard like steel but something beneath the surface. Something unwilling, something sacred that Hydra hadn't taken away yet and you looked away and sighed. Hand moving up to rub your neck again, knowing he wasn't going to back out of this. 

"It's just as I said," You spoke after a long moment, motioning for him to sit on his bed so you had room to think of where to even begin. Sometimes you remembered and sometimes you didn't after long sessions in that forsaken chair. Sometimes they would tell you, and other times you had to remember on your own. The mind never forgets, and eventually, it all resurfaces it just becomes a matter of when. "You can't kill me."

He says nothing, waiting for you to continue you though and watches with a sharp eye as you pull your own blanket on your lap. Ringing your hands into the fabric, your expression never gave it away it was always your body language rigid as it seemed to most. 

"I don't," You purse your lips and sigh. "I don't really know what to tell you. Not in ways you'll understand without seeing it." The ticking clock on the nightstand tells you it's almost time anyway. Seeing was believing so it was no harm in having him tag along.

Your hands are trembling for the first time since he's met you, but he watches you stand up anyway. "It's better to just show you, the tests will begin soon." 

The room is spacious, a controlled chair within the middle and attached to it are devices that seemed familiar and terrible all at the same time. Your feet pad quietly into the room and Dr. Zola is already there, waiting. It's a wonder if he ever sleeps, but maybe one so consumed with figuring things out felt he had no time. 

"Good to see you brought him along." It was the only remark made in regards to the Winter Soldier's presence among everything else. He motions for him to stand somewhere and he follows obediently, turning to face you as you climb into the chair and sit down.

It's not long before other assistants to his work file in, strapping your arms and legs into the machine and the Winter Soldier watches with a trained eye. The subtle clenching of your hands against the armrest, the way your jaw tightens ever so slightly and the rigid posture speaks volumes against your face which expresses nothing.

"Are you ready? I have many new things I'd like to test tonight." The Doctor's voice is laced with a sadistic glee, and he watches you flick your eyes to him before looking down at the ground. 

"Yes, Dr. Zola."

You didn't scream at first, but when you did it echoed in his brain and rattled his bones. A piercing scream that no one could hear outside the room as they tortured you for a better lack of a term. Removing body parts, injecting serums that he had no idea what they were, inside of you. Watching it tear your body apart, only for your body to rebuild itself back up. He understands what you meant by the end of it when he couldn't kill you and it left his throat dry and a feeling in his chest he couldn't quite explain, wasn't sure he wanted to.

You had regenerative properties so advanced it basically made you immortal. No matter what they removed from you if it wasn't immediately reattached your body, you would have a new limb within seconds. Whatever they injected that ate away at your skin was repaired instantly.

The faster they tried to kill you, the faster your regenerative properties kicked in.

"All right, that is enough for now." Dr. Zola states as he pulls off the bloody gloves, his entire front soaked in it and your clothes are torn from the many power tools used against you. But you're covered in blood and once again, your body is like nothing ever happened. 

"You can take her, Soldier." Dr. Zola states as all the assistances file out after him, leaving you strapped to the chair.

He moves quietly across the room, his footsteps feel so loud but so quiet at the same time in comparison to the screams that had shaken the walls.

Each move is controlled and careful as he slowly releases you from the chair. Your eyes peel open and he can clearly see how disorientated you are as he releases the last strap and you struggle to get up.

"Stop." It's a command from him, but his voice is above a whisper and there's no strength in you to defy and you simply stop moving, entire body limp like it's an effort to keep yourself up. 

He's careful in how he first tries to approach carrying you before he slips one hand beneath your legs. Legs he had seen removed and legs that had grown back within minutes of such torture, and he tries not to think about it as he lifts you up into his arms.

The walk back is quiet and you're so surprisingly light that he has to glance down to make sure your chest is still moving, that you're still breathing. 

When the door to your shared room groans open you begin to stir from your stupor, Dr. Zola normally had tests lined up but you assumed thanks to the Winter Soldier's presence that he wanted to show off. Show what could happen, possibly.

He's careful with you, though like he's afraid you'll break even though he's sure to know it's impossible now. But he sets you down on the bed carefully and steps back with pursed lips and jaw clenched. He has many questions you know it and you know he's debating on whether he should ask or not or leave it as is.

"Sit." You say and motion for the end of your bed, he does so stiffly and looks down at the ground as you pull yourself up against the wall at the other end of the bed. You're completely exhausted, but sleep won't come just yet.

"You have questions." It wasn't a question to him, you knew he did and his stiff nod only confirms it. 

"How many times have they tried?" It comes out in a rasped breath as he finally lifts his head to look at you. 

"To kill me?" You clarify and he nods stiffly, still not looking at you or the blood that sticks to you like sweat.

"It's an ongoing process. Less trying to kill me and more trying to figure out how it works. And testing methods. Methods they used on you."

He looks up sharply, steel eyes and pursed lips and you meet his gaze head on. 

"Wiping memories wasn't safe, not until recently. Before.. before they always killed people."

"And they perfected it on you?"

Your lids felt heavy and you sighed, pressing your head against the cold metal of the wall behind you and looking up toward the ceiling.

"Yes."

His hands and jaw clench tightly, so many things need answering, that he wants answers to but he says nothing. Standing up and leaving the room without a word, the door groans shut with a loud snap and you sigh and close your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha so.. it's kinda short and I sincerely apologize but I was really nervous to upload this chapter. (I feel like it's a make or break chapter for those following along)
> 
> I'm a little bit stuck on if I should maybe do some time-skips or if I should kind of slowly keep building day-to-day kind of style. So I figure I'll ask you guys what your opinions would be on it. Would you rather a time-skip maybe a couple months or so, or continue day-to-day for a bit longer?
> 
> Also this reveals /some/ stuff about "you" but there's still much more to be uncovered. Hopefully, this was an okay installment for everyone.
> 
> To answer Anon's comment (since it was a good one and I feel a lot would be interested): Your missions are very infrequent, and Hydra doesn't want you out of their clutches for very obvious (or maybe not so obvious?) reasons due to your "ability" and how uh.. useful it is in tests. Any missions you take are ones that are considered "suicide missions" where they don't have enough resources (aka soldiers) to spare on such things, so they send you in, instead.
> 
> Thank you anon for the comment, and for all of you who gave me many kudos' ♥ Please let me know if I should time-skip or continue as is.
> 
> PS. I forgot to add romance to the tags, and as this is very much a Bucky x reader fic it's been added. ♥


	4. I am flesh

He was their perfect soldier, the training they gave him made him deadly and the more techniques they tried only gave them more power over him. You were watching someone who had been given to you as _yours_ when they took everything else, fade away from you.

It shouldn't have been anything new.

His metal hand reached out to grab you and you quickly ducked, rolling to the side and outside the fist that pounded against the metal floor. Panting heavily and slowly pulling yourself from your roll into a crouching position, pushing your hair that was sticky with sweat away from your face.

His eyes were cold, not the ones you had come to know on a nightly basis, not the ones who carried you from the nights of tortures back to your bed so you didn't have to walk. They had taken it away and covered it up with the ruthless soldier that was before you, moving in a slow circle around you like predator and prey.

Your breathing was labored, constantly wiping away the hair that stuck to your face and taking in his next move. The next shift of metal plates on his arm that gave away his next move, what was once easy fights to knock out now felt like a real battle and if you could die you would say it was a battle for your life.

The blood welling in your mouth from the last hit to the face was spat out quickly before you immediately pushed off the ground, bare feet against the cold metal as you swung your arm at him. Falling for your fluke he went to block your arm but you ducked low, spinning around to nail him in the side with your heel.

Unexpectedly he grabbed your leg as it made contact, a steel plated prosthetic arm slamming into your face and your entire vision jarred, the one leg keeping you up and balanced slipping with the hit as you collapsed to the ground in a heap. 

Letting go of your leg to grab onto your throat, you shook the darkness away from your vision and blocked his attempt to choke you. Prosthetic arm grabbing your forearm instead and ripping you from the ground before slamming you back down onto your stomach. Body twisting as he hiked up your twisted arm behind your back, a soft cry pressing past your lips. 

The room was quiet save for the heavy breathing between the both of you, your squirming coming to a halt as you attempted to catch your breath but the moment of respite was interrupted by the one overseeing the match.

"Ms. [Last Name]. If you aren't going to _try_ I will just have him kill you." 

[Color] eyes flicked to the doctor as he stood behind the reinforced glass with both hands folded behind his back. The sweat dripping from your forehead as you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, arm grasped in the Winter Soldier's hand rolling slightly.

Biting your lip hard you bucked yourself off the ground, the Winter Solider pressing your arm up further, and you bucked again and finally getting your lower half bent slightly you pressed into the pressure against your arm and with a sickening crack the resistance he had against you with your arm fell away as the bone broke from its joint.

Rolling away from him and pulling yourself up onto your feet before he could grab you again you grabbed your broken shoulder and pressed it back into place. Body fixing it as soon as it was in place and you rolled your shoulder, walking backward as the Winter Soldier approached.

His form feels like a mountain against your tired one, you'd been going at this for hours and you were running low on energy. He was relentless and you had no doubt it was due to the extra enhancements added to him over the months, and you batted off a fist, redirecting the energy and attempting to move away from him but his arm twists to grab a fistful of hair before you can slink by.

A startled cry broken as his prosthetic arm slams against your throat, fingers tightening and lifting you off the ground. Fingers clawing at him and feet attempting to kick him but you were running out of oxygen and the darkness was beginning to fall into your vision. 

"Enough." Followed by the magic word and you watched as the cold edge to his blue eyes gave way to a mixture of surprise and hidden horror as he immediately dropped your body. 

You hit the ground hard, coughing loudly and wheezing in the oxygen he had starved you from. One arm resting on the cold floor to keep yourself propped up and the other at your throat as your body repaired the damage, the bruises that had immediately formed faded away. Swelling disappearing until all that was left was just your heavy breathing as you continued to swallow down as much air as you could.

"We will resume again tomorrow." Dr. Zola spoke with a dismissive wave, not bothering to say anything further as he exited the training facility.

The Winter Soldier watched him go before looking down at you, his mouth opening and closing and his hands clenching before he moved to kneel down beside you. Out of all the times, he was under their control and fought more and more people, you were the only one that when he returned to his right state of mind didn't back away in fear.

Instead, you coughed once more and waved off the hands that hovered over you, wanting to help but unsure how. 

"I'm fine." You coughed out, pushing yourself up onto your feet. "Good as new." You joked looking at his kneeling form, jaw clenching and no humor showing from your joke.

"I'm sorry." It's a quiet response and he lifts himself up to stand beside you, head bowed. 

"Don't apologize," You start, wiping a hand down your face as you roll your shoulders and ankles, loosening up the muscles that were no longer sore, but it made you feel human to do so like maybe you could pretend that you weren't the freak that recovered without an issue. 

"Don't look back, keep going, survive." He repeats your mantra to you and a bitter smile breaks your face. 

You didn't say it, you didn't tell him it was because he was a hydra agent and it was their mantra. Because it wasn't, you didn't like hydra, didn't like what they did to the one thing that was so _human_ compared to the rest of you. Who's moral compass still guided his gut even if he didn't show it, the way his eyes gave way to what was on his mind.

You told him it to survive what they were doing to him and to keep going because you wanted him to survive this nightmare of a place. Survive when they wanted to break him down, you wanted to protect what little humanity you could see left in this forgotten piece of hell.

He's waiting for you to move and say something and your chest tightens, waving him off as you turn to wander back further into the training facility. "You can grab dinner, I'll meet up with you later."

He watches with clouded eyes and his jaw clenches, your form moving to the punching bags hidden away in the back and he struggles to decide what he wants to do. But you're his handler and have told him what to do, and so he turns and leaves heavy feet against the metal floor.

He doesn't hear the strangled cry after the door groans shut as your fists connect with the punching bag, and you don't see the hidden cameras or the doctor watching you behind them.

* * *

"This was his first assignment and I must say, what a success it was!" The doctor is absolutely elated and you've made sure to keep your face perfectly neutral as you follow behind him. His excited chatter drowning out the footsteps as you both make your way to the room where he has just returned to from a mission. 

"Let's just hope he doesn't try to attack anyone now. Adrenaline and all." He gives a short laugh and you keep your face straight. "I am here to prevent that, Dr. Zola."

The doctor hums, elation all gone and you glance at him but he gives the same sadistic smile as he stops before a door.

"We'll just have to see about that won't we."

You attempt to question but your mouth snaps shut as he turns away and opens the metal door and inside the Winter Soldier is already there. Briefing on his mission and handing over the supplies he was asked to retrieve as well as some.. trinkets as proof of the successful assassinations he was assigned.

His head turns to the two of you and you can see the subtle ways his shoulders relax as he spots you, the unclenching of his jaw before he resumes his briefing.

You stop at the railing that leads down to the center of the room where Dr. Zola happily walks to greet the soldier, asking questions and checking up on his arm.

"Very good, very good." He pats the arm and motions for the Winter Soldier to take a seat and your chest tightens at the only seat available being the chair that wiped his memories the first time he came to this place. Your hands tighten on the railing as a bad feeling stirs in your gut, and as they finishing making adjustments on his arm he's pushed back into the chair and you can feel yourself get sick.

"Sir?" You question, voice strained as the Winter Soldier's hands tighten around the armrests, his eyes flick to you and you can see a flash of unrestrained panic which makes your own body seize.

"Precautionary measures." Dr. Zola speaks, a wicked smile on his face. "We've all agreed that it's _best_ if after each mission we wipe his memory. Keep him from feeling guilt or getting any.. emotional attachments." The doctor looks up at you and you feel your stomach twist until you want to vomit.

They were taking it away from you, the one thing you had that you talked to nightly until the both of you eventually fell to exhaustion. The one you had spent months with, at your side day in and day out.

If it weren't for the railing that your hands clenched they would be shaking and you swallowed down hard and bowed your head to look away from the two of them. Guilt eating you alive, "Of course, sir."

His pained screams echo inside your skull and the procedure feels like a lifetime of waiting, no one says anything and no one _cares_ and it feels like the one semblance and attachment you had to humanity was gone, in a simple instant.

The screaming fades away as the shocks stop and Dr. Zola leaves it to his assistants to finish up the job, coming to stand beside you but not face your form. Neither of you look at each other, you watch them release the Winter Solider slowly while Dr. Zola stares at the door.

"Attachments are a weakness, Ms. [Last Name]." Your throat tightens and you remain silent. "Please do not think even for a moment that anything is _yours_ , toys don't get to have toys." 

You jerk your head to look at him but he's already walking away, the metal door groans at his departure and you watch the assistants until they motion you to come down. Cleaning up the place before they, themselves head for the exit.

His eyes are cold, void of life and you steel your own expression to match his as he looks down at you.

"Who are you?" His voice cracks from the screams he had just let out moments prior but his face doesn't show it.

"Your constant."

* * *

Your reservations about fighting him like in the past are all washed away because he doesn't remember you. It aches in your chest but it's an ache that you've experienced in the past, an ache that burns through your veins and tells you when all else fails to _survive_ through it. The ache leaves steel behind, covers the memories you shared and the quiet laughs and drags them down to the tight little box in the bottom of your heart, and locks it safe.

His punch misses as you move away, using the momentum of your dodge to fuel your kick that lands against the side of his temple. He staggers heavy and hits the wall beside him, vision spinning and you move in again, attempting to hit him in the jaw and end it.

He ducks away, though, and your foot hits the concrete of the climbing wall and you can feel the bones in your heel crack and crunch beneath your own force. Leaving a mark against the concrete and blood against it, but by the time you drop your foot back onto the ground the wound is all but healed.

With each swing, you try to ignore the cold looks as he goes for hits that would instantly end your life. Each training session becomes more brutal than the last one and you allow yourself to believe that you can die if he catches you. It pushes you further and makes you press harder, it makes you forget the nightly talks and the soft eyes he once had. It makes you forget the humanity that you once held in your hands.

He moves forward with intimidation personified, rarely ever running from his target because he will catch up to them eventually. You wait carefully, sliding your bloody foot against the ground to smear the substance off your foot so you wouldn't slip when you kicked at him next.

His arm twitches and there's a noise behind you and you jerk your head behind you to see it, but before you can process he had just _thrown_ a piece of the rubble your kick had knocked off the concrete to distract you, his hand is around your throat lifting you into the air. You attempt to wrap your legs around his arm and pry his arm away but it's useless, he drops to one knee and slams you onto the ground head first.

The world bleeds black and the impact kills you instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're going to experience some jumping around time-line wise. These are going to be snippets of what happens in between each time period, but this is just the beginning!
> 
> Sorry for all those who are looking for the chemistry of bucky and reader, it'll come but this is a chaptered story and we're still deep in Hydra's clutches! Be patient.


	5. Chapter 5

It's only a split second, your body hasn't uncoiled from his arm. Legs still knotted around his upper shoulder and your fingers still pressed against his where you tried to pry it away from your throat. 

It's only a heartbeat before your vision returns in a startling blur of color as your eyes snap open, taking in the split second surprise from the Winter Soldier before your heel connects with his jaw roughly and he lets you go to push himself back and give him space.

You stagger to your feet, vision swimming and the hard edges of his body blur out and you blink rapidly. The damage to your brain still fixing itself before he's stalking toward you again, ready to do this a hundred times over.

"Enough."

The voice is like steel and the Winter Soldier halts in his advance to look up at Dr. Zola who's obviously pleased.

"Good job, we'll resume again another time."

You don't look back at him and you continue to hold your stance until the door shuts and then you collapse to your knees to cradle the back of your head. Head injuries always disorientate you the most and hurt the worst when they heal up.

"I killed you." He speaks and you look up at him from your position, his ice blue eyes are hard, lost is the soft edge you once knew. Instead, he's staring at you strangely, and expression that leaves you uneasy and you drop your gaze and your hands.

"I've told you before, you can't kill me." It comes out bitter and he doesn't move from his spot.

"Before?"

"Forget it." There's steel biting into your tone, filling up your veins as you let out a slow and steady breath. The ache is back, filling up your veins and your heart throbs painfully in your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

"Go get dinner."

It's a command and he watches you carefully for a moment longer before doing as you've told and he leaves the training room as well, the door shutting behind him.

The darkened stains of blood on the floor hold your vision as useless thoughts occupy your head. It's a long time before you look away and run a hand down your face.

"I'm sorry." You whisper to no one before standing up and heading back to your shared room. Now as cold as the soldier who occupied it with you.

* * *

It was your punishment, you knew it was. Each session during the night with Dr. Zola steadily got worse and worse, you knew what it meant. A reminder of your place in the order of things and the small nagging part of your brain couldn't help but wonder why you had even bothered in the first place.

 _He was the first friend I've had in years._

You laugh to yourself in the empty room, staring down at the bands they hadn't bothered to release you from before taking their leave. Sweat coated your body and mixed with the blood that also stained it. Your clothes were practically in tatters, he had spared no expense this time and you wished you could say the savagery was unusual but unfortunately it wasn't. He was a cruel person who would stop at nothing for the sake of discovery, hydra, and his own designs.

Hefting your arm against the leather band around your right arm you pulled, twisted and struggled to release it from its tight confines to no avail. You hadn't invited the Winter Soldier to these sessions since his last memory wipe, you didn't need Dr. Zola seeing you spending time with him outside of simply being his handler.

With a frustrated shout, you gave up the struggle in a heap and slump into your seat. Blowing wet strands of hair dyed with your blood from your face the best you were able. 

You hadn't meant for it to turn into this, to get your hopes up and place it all in one person. It had just _been so long_ since someone spoke to you outside Dr. Zola and his horrible assistants. No one talked to you, no one even looked in your direction half the time, you were a dress up doll to one twisted nut case and an experimental one that didn't die to another.

It had felt like a never ending cycle of torture and pain and then they had placed someone into your life ever so carefully. It hadn't been long, a couple months, and you craved the attention he willingly gave you, indulged you in late night conversations and listened to you talk until you fell asleep yourself.

Tears burned the edges of your vision and you grit your teeth, yanking at the leather band once more. You knew better, you knew better, _you knew better_.

So why? _Why?_

"Do you want help?"

Startled you jerk your head up to see him standing there, the same person you had just been scolding yourself over. The harsh edge to his face was gone, along with the hard steely eyes that had been staring down at you hours ago.

"I," You swallow thickly, realizing how dry your mouth is and how scratchy your voice sounds. "Why are you here?"

He stays where he is, head tilted down as if afraid of looking directly at you. "Did Dr. Zola or his assistants send you?" You practically hiss out, tears still burning the edge of your vision but refusing to fall.

"No." He starts, quickly, quietly. "I followed you."

"Did you see?"

"I-yes. Through the window."

Your eyes flick to the small holes lining up the wall, normally they were covered up but you could see where he may have been peeking through, a small torn hole in the corner.

"Why did you follow me?" You demand out, a part of you is hopeful at the prospect that maybe he remembers, maybe it was a fluke and that he's been playing pretend all this time.

That he hasn't forgotten you like everyone else eventually has.

"You leave every night." It's a simple answer but it brings in a wave of despair that's quickly replaced by frustration once again. Of course! They wouldn't not erase everything, you were so _stupid_ to get your hopes up. 

"Do you.." His question lingers in the air and you don't give a verbal response, this time, you're watching through the thick strands of your hair before slumping down in the chair.

He takes the nonverbal cue as a yes and approaches you with the same stealth he probably used to follow and watch you. His footsteps don't make a sound, such a contrast to the heavy steps when he first came here.

He releases the first strap holding your right arm down and you twist the joint in silent relief, and he watches as the bruises and irritation across your skin fade away until nothing but smooth skin is left in its place, before quickly moving on to the rest of the straps that hold you down.

The exhaustion has long since seeped into your bones and you take a silent deep breathe, rolling your ankles and wrists before slowly propping yourself up onto your feet.

"Do you need help?"

His voice is quiet, doesn't even echo in the room and you bite your lip and take another step.

"No, I'm perfectly fine."

He follows behind you without a word, up the steps and to the door that doesn't groan in protest like many of the others do. He doesn't say anything about your slow and tired stride, how you drag your feet against the cold dirty ground. 

The door to your bedroom is already open and you step through, aiming immediately for the shower and slamming the door behind you as the bed squeaks from his weight as he lays back down. 

Cold water washes the blood down the drain and soon enough you've toweled your hair dry and replaced the bloody cotton clothes with a new pair, before dropping your weight onto the bed that squeaks with each movie and rolling onto your side to face the wall. You don't bother with the blankets, simply leave them crumpled at the foot of your bed and the towel remains half over you, the rest pressed into your clenched hands.

"Is that what you meant when you said I couldn't kill you?"

You slump your shoulders and resist the urge to let out another sigh. You didn't want to repeat this story every time they decided to wipe his memories. It was a conversation that ached at a wound so raw you weren't sure it would ever heal.

"Yes."

"Do they do it every night?"

"Now they do."

"How long?"

You want to laugh at the irony, you couldn't even say he was a different person - he was asking the same questions.

"How long what?" You venture out, to satisfy his curiosity this time around.

"How long have they been doing that?"

"I've lost count of the years."

"Do they practice it on you before anyone else?"

Same question worded differently and you pluck at the fraying ends of the towel.

"Most of the time, everything they've used on you was perfected on me."

He doesn't say anything, but you hear the bed squeak as he turns on his side and the conversation ends and weight of everything drags the both of you down into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Enough." The hard ice to his eyes melt away and he drops you as if he's been burned. You hit the ground roughly coughing and hacking as the dark dots dancing into your vision fade away with each breathe you take. Choking you to death seemed to be an occurring method whenever you fought him, you couldn't say you blamed the tactic, though. You recovered from almost everything else fairly quickly, but when the life was choked from you, your body was always hacking and coughing and involuntarily throwing up if he does strangle you to death, every time you revived.

"We have another mission for you, Soldier. Report at 2300." Was all that was left before the door to the training room slams shut and silence follows suit.

He isn't moving and as you manage to catch your breathe you slump forward in your sitting position, rubbing a hand down your face.

"Go get dinner."

You command, expecting the silent footsteps and the only signal to be the door closing. But instead you're left thoroughly surprise as his feet move in front of you and he slowly sits himself down.

"What are you doing?" You bite out, harsh. A knot in your chest that tightens at his sorrowful look hidden by hair.

"You haven't eaten." 

"I don't need to eat."

He looks up at you and frowns.

"I beg to differ."

"I can survi-"

"You can survive without it, sure. Doesn't mean you still don't benefit from it."

You snap your mouth shut and look away from him, he doesn't say anything. There isn't a look of triumph or anything on his face, he's simply staring at you waiting for a response before you let out a heavy sigh and pull yourself up.

"Fine, let's go."

He follows you out and for the first time since they wiped his memory, you sat down with him to eat.

* * *

"You can't _do_ this!" Your voice is hoarse, and you're shrugging off the soldier who's placed a hand on your shoulder, gun in hand. 

"Oh, but I can." His voice is so full of sadistic glee you want to punch his lights out, and the doctor looks at you as if _asking_ you to do so.

"I have," You struggle through your heavy breathing, ignoring the confused looks of the other assistants and the Winter Soldier himself. "I have kept my distance, I have done _as you've told me to_. Why?!" 

"Your tantrum tells me everything I need to know, Ms. [Last Name]."

There's a cry of frustration from you and the soldiers in the room save for your Winter Soldier, are advancing. Your hands are trembling and there is a rage that boils through your veins, a raw aching wound in your chest and it fuels your outcry of pain. 

You ignore the first shot into your leg to slow you down, the bullet hits your calf and goes straight through it but your regenerative abilities close the wound up right away, it doesn't slow you down.

Confused shouts, orders to stand down all are ignored and the Winter Soldier watches as you lunge at the doctor from across the table before the orders are for _him_ to move. To protect the doctor and his feet move before he really knows what he is doing.

His hand grabs the back of your neck and tightens, you freeze and gasp at the sudden pain. Scrambling to pry his fingers away from your neck as his fingers close down.

You hate being strangled.

You hate being strangled by him.

"Do you see Ms. [Last Name], you may care but he does not. Knock her out."

There's a tight feeling in his chest as he snaps your neck and you fall to the ground like a limp doll. He stares down at your expression and clenches his jaw, the unshed tears in your eyes dripping down your cheeks.

"Come now. Before she wakes up and decides to cause more of a racket."

He steps over your body that is simply left on the ground and sits back down into the chair as he's told. The mouthpiece fitted into his mouth before the straps are in place, and the pain is all he knows before darkness takes him.

 _I took too long_ , are the first thoughts that filter into your head as the world slowly comes back to you. The room is too quiet for it to still be going on, and you bite your lip as you slowly pull yourself up. He's sitting there still in the chair and strapped down, and your chest aches a thousand times over as you heft yourself up to retrieve him.

"It'd be easier if they just wiped my memories." You say sorrowfully, slowly pulling the mouthpiece out of his mouth and setting it down onto the tray, one hand gently closing his mouth before moving to work on the restraints that kept him in place, the headpiece was the final thing to be removed.

"It works so well on you, so why not me?" You reach for his face, hesitating just before his cheek before pulling yourself away. Pushing away the arm rests to scoot yourself close to him, picking up his metal arm to wrap it around your shoulders as you attempt to heft him up.

He's heavier than you thought he'd be and you nearly topple forward once his weight is off the chair. A startled noise from the back of your throat as you stumble over to the wall of the sunken in floor plan. Easing the both of you down until you're sitting against it, his head drops onto your shoulders and you shift his unconscious form until his head is resting in your lap.

He wakes up to something warm and wet against his face, followed by gentle hands against his cheek to wipe it away. He doesn't open his eyes for the longest time because when the hands retreat they go back to soothing ministrations in his hair, combing through it carefully.

It feels like an eternity before he reluctantly opens his eyes, the lights making him squint harshly but he can clearly see your face. Red eyes brimmed with tears and a trembling lip as you slowly pull your hand away.

"Who are you?"

You release a sob and he feels a strike of panic hit his chest.

"Your constant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thank you for all of the kudos' and anon for the comment ♥
> 
> I wasn't really going to end it here, but a lot of what would typically happen is pretty much what's happened every single time. So we're gonna skip forward after this chapter and that'll bring us to present day. Finally, yay.


	6. I'm breaking in

_"They're going to but you in cryogenic stasis after this mission." Your voice is quiet and you refuse to look at him, hands crossed over your chest defensively and he watches your body language carefully._

_"What about you?" He watches you start, looking up at him a bit wide-eyed before the expression fades away replaced by an expression he can't quite place his finger on. Sadness?_

_"You don't need to worry about me." It's a quiet statement, one he feels like he's heard a thousand times but doesn't remember any other instance in which you've said it._

_"How long?" It's difficult to process to swallow down the fact he's going to be frozen._

_"Until they decide they need you again." It's like a blow to the chest and his eyes widen and panic fills up his body._

_"What if they don't?" Would he never leave the cryogenic stasis if they no longer need him? Would he remain frozen or would they eventually kill him off?_

_Your hand touches his cheek and he flinches visibly, and immediately regrets it when you withdraw your hand as if you've been burned. Looking away from him he can see you swallow before he hears you clear your throat._

_"They'll always need you." You look like you want to say more, but your lips purse and he's left wanting to ask why, why won't you say it?_

_"Will you be here?" You shift toward him, and it feels like someone has seized his heart to squeeze it tightly, his entire chest hurts and he's at a loss for words. There are unshed tears in your eyes that begin to get red._

_"I'm your constant, I'll always be here."_

He wakes from the dream, or is it a memory? He can't say, but it brings forth emotions that twist his chest, that poor lava into his veins and makes it hard to breathe but it also makes him feel _alive_.

"Heart rate increasing."

The voices are foreign, the whole place feels foreign and the yellow tinted case that surrounds him in his cryogenic stasis slowly lifts away to reveal unfamiliar faces.

_"I'll always be here."_

The bands that hold him down give way and he steps off the platform, heavy and loud and there's an anger in him. Who was the woman in the memory? It couldn't be a dream, it felt too real to be a dream. She's not here, though, all that look at him are faces mixed with confusion and fear.

"Winter Soldier we have-"

He doesn't wait for them to finish, it floods his veins like liquid fire and he's so _angry_ at them all. He grabs the person closest to him checking the vitals and lifts them up like a rag doll before throwing them at the others.

There's a sudden outburst of noise, soldier's in the room lift up their guns but there's an order to stand down and not shoot. Calls for help, for someone, but he's on a rampage, he doesn't hear their screams or cries as he goes after them one at a time. Doesn't hear the crunch of their bones as he steps on one to get to another. He only hears the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears and a tightness in his chest that spurs him forward, breaths it in and releases it with another punch to a scientist who immediately collapses to the floor in agonizing pain.

"Stop." It breaks through the haze of confusion and anger like a soothing wave, as a hand comes down to grasp the metal wrist of his prosthetic arm. He clings to the rage, though, clings to the feeling of being alive and draws his free arm back to slam it into the person but before it can connect he freezes.

[Color] eyes look up at him, and don't flinch away from the proximity of his fist to their face. He knows you, knows the expressions on your face like the back of his hand but he can't for the life of him remember _why_ he knows you so well.

He remembers the gentle curve of your jaw bone and the way you bite your lip when you're unsure or preparing for something. Remembers the tell-tale giveaway of what you're feeling by looking at your hands, the biggest giveaway.

Icy blue eyes glance down at the hand that isn't holding his wrist and he can see the fingers trembling, the way you curl it into a fist to keep yourself strong and he's frustrated at why he _knows_ these things. But he's frustrated even more with himself because he can't bring himself to connect his fist to your face and remove you from him. 

Instead, he drops his arms, both of them, and you release him to stand straight. There's a broken smile on your face before you say something that surprises him.

"Welcome back."

Then tension in his body gives way and he can feel each muscle unwind from the struggle and he feels the rage drain out of him, a fire stemmed by the woman in front of him alone. Even the frustration of not knowing gives way to simple acceptance.

_"I'll always be here."_

There's a nagging in his head that tells him, you haven't broken the promise yet.

He watches the way your eyes trail down his form before hitting the ground, the subtle change in your expression that bleeds all the softness from your face leaving hard edges. The way your jaw clenches and when you lift your face your eyes are like steel, taking in everything around you before turning to face someone in the room who's flanked by several soldiers.

"Are we done here?" The soft whisper of your voice is gone, replaced by a biting anger that makes the scientist stumble out his confirmation. 

"Come." You glance at him and he follows behind you as you make your way out of the room, leaving behind groaning and crying scientists, cradling their wounds.

"I doubt you want to sleep," You start as he follows you down endless corridors that feel foreign. Your heels click against the concrete and cover up his quiet footsteps. "But you have twenty-four hours to prepare yourself for your next mission."

A door slides open quietly and you step in, moving to the footlocker at the base of a bed. He stands there quietly, watching you and trying to place his finger on the nagging sensation of why all of this was so familiar. 

Instead, his arms are prodded with fresh clothes that you've gathered from the footlocker and press into his arm. 

"Take a shower, we'll get you something to eat after."

* * *

Alexander Pierce was someone you never held any fondness for, but that could be said for almost all of Hydra. His appearance always was revolting and you considered it was probably because he reminded you so much of the scientist who had the strange fascination for dressing you up in expensive gowns before dissecting you or handing you off to the now deceased Dr. Zola.

So when his hand lands on your shoulder and gives you a good natured squeeze with a smile that makes your insides roll, you shrug off his hand with a look of disgust. Your body shrinks into itself, arms crossing over your chest and one leg crossing over the other. 

You don't notice the way the Winter Soldier looks at you, and you don't see his hands hidden away by the table, that clench onto the armrests tightly.

"You're always so cold, [Name]." Pierce says, expression of mocking hurt from being rejected. "I am just trying to ease the tension between us."

You roll your eyes and look at him, jaw tight as you bite out your next words.

"I'd say forgive me, but I'd rather not have your forgiveness. Besides you are much too old looking and like I've said before, I'm not here to ease the tensions between us. Your bed can remain cold."

His face immediately sobers and you can see the underlining red to his features from anger and embarrassment. He's asked and tried to get you into his bed a thousand times, and each time you've turned him down and sometimes even fought your way out of the situation. He was unpleasant, filthy, and a disgusting human being. The last thing you wanted was his hands on you in any way, and you made that clear each time.

"Straight to the point then," Pierce says, throwing you a dirty look before beginning to go over the specifics of what the Winter Soldier's job was going to be.

"There are some people I need you to eliminate."

* * *

"Are you okay?" It's been a silent ride for the most part from the Hydra base. The only ones aboard the aircraft were you, the Winter Soldier, and the pilot. 

"Why do I remember you from somewhere?" His voice is quiet but you seize none the less. Heart pounding in your chest as you glance over to the pilot in hopes he hadn't overheard what he had just said. Fear overwhelms your gut and you can feel your hands trembling.

He watches you carefully, watches your expression twist to a type of shock and panic that fuels the same inside him. Watching you as you unbuckle yourself from your seat and move to kneel in front of him. His heart's pounding and there's a fear that accompanies your own panicked expression.

"Why did you unbuckle?"

You shoot a nasty look in the Pilot's direction, raising your voice loud enough so he can hear.

"The belt is uncomfortable, and it's not like I need it anyway."

When you're met with silence you kneel yourself in front of the Winter Soldier, you can see his expression. A mixture of worry and confusion and you let out a sigh and wipe a hand down your face.

"Listen," You start your voice low so only he can hear you. "You can't ask about that."

"Why-"

"I'll tell you eventually, but you need to _trust me_." You're hoping that somewhere over the years, even with his memory wiped every single time that some part of his brain will allow him to do that. That doesn't associate you with Hydra, that knows out of everything he can trust _you_ if nothing else.

You can ask for that at least, can't you?

An overwhelming feeling blooms in your chest and you fight it down. Fight the tears that threaten to well in your eyes, and bite down on your lip.

"Can you trust me?"

You look up at him, [color] eyes meeting his blue ones that search your face before he gives a slow nod. Relief breaks out across your face and you nearly want to bury your hands into your face and cry. He can trust you, he trusts you even though he doesn't remember a thing, some part of him _knows_ and you're so thankful for that small part of him that does.

You worked so hard over the years, played so many cards and it was time to put them on the table and you couldn't risk him asking the wrong questions to the wrong people. Not now. He would unknowingly unravel all you had put forth through the years to protect that last bit of humanity you could see peeking through his eyes. The vulnerability in his eyes as he looks at you and says that _he trusts you_ , and you know deep in your gut you can't let that trust go to waste.

"If they ask you anything, anything at all. You need to swear to me that you'll say you don't remember anything outside of waking up from cryogenic stasis."

He searches your face, unsure of why you're asking this of him but he nods anyway. There's a sense of urgency in you that makes him want to act, to protect and he can't figure out _why_ but if promising this small bit eases the concern on your features it's the least he can do, even if he's unsure of why.

"Thank you," You say quietly and releasing a shaky breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Your own hand tentatively reaching out to place on his one good arm to give it a quick squeeze before you let go and move back to your seat.

* * *

"Change of plans."

From your spot on the table, you immediately sit up, looking over at the Winter Solider who's simply watching Alexander Pierce as he appears on the screen.

"What?"

You counter, crossing your arms over your chest and not looking pleased in the slightest. Changing his plans meant changing _yours_ which wouldn't go over too well, you'd put a lot of thought into this. Hydra had been after these influential people for awhile. It gave you what you needed-

"Nick Fury seems to know something about our little operation. Has asked me to halt Project Insight until he sniffs out our trail."

You grit your teeth but your face remains neutral, the Winter Solider watches as you walk over to appear in front of the screen. Your face is drawn tight, and he notices as your jaw clenches.

"And how exactly did he get our trail in the first place. Pierce?"

"Now's not the time for specifics. I'm sending some guys out but this is Nick Fury we're talking about, I want the Winter Soldier there, waiting. In case they can't handle him."

 _Nick Fury_ , he was closely associated with Captain America. 

"Fine," You say turning away from the screen and walking back to your spot. "Good job getting it all compromised, though."

He sneers at you but you've already looked away. Tapping your fingers along your thigh.

Nick Fury had several assassination attempts on his life, all which have failed. He was cunning and most importantly, you could _use_ this. 

"Move out, into position." Your voice is stern and the others in the room immediately begin filing out the door. The Winter Soldier stands last, looking over at you waiting until you finally look at him, your lips are pursed and your nails are digging into the desk.

"Trust me." You plead and stares at you awhile longer before he subtly shifts his head to nod and turns to walk out the door.

* * *

"He got away." The screen pops up again and you watch Alexander Pierce pace around the room he's in from your spot on the desk. Chewing on a stick of bubble gum as they check on the Winter Soldier's vitals.

"No," You drawl out, blowing a bubble and popping it.

"Listen, [Name]. This is no time for your shitty attitude." He stalks up to the screen and glares into it, obviously seething.

"He's Nick Fury, Pierce. Did you really expect him not to have gotten away?" But you're inwardly relieved, moving your laptop to place it on your lap as you access the S.H.I.E.L.D security system.

"He can't be allowed to live, he now knows SHIELD has been compromised."

"Of course not, but you've gone and made this into a mess. I'll find where he's at, and this time, we won't use your little scenario to get him killed. We'll do it and we'll be professional about it."

There's muffled anger on the other side of the screen but it's already turned off as you type away on the keyboard, making sure the assistants tending to the Winter Soldier don't walk over.

"He's likely gone underground until evening, we just need to figure out where he's going to go to get help, first."

You don't notice the Winter Soldier watching you, and instead blow another bubble with your gum and pop it.

* * *

With a soft click, you sigh heavily and press yourself up against the closed door and shut your eyes tightly. You don't see the expression that filters across the Winter Soldier's face as he watches you, duffle bag concealing the sniper rifle from view.

"Are you alright?" His voice is quiet, barely a whisper and you let out a heavy sigh and open your eyes to face him.

"It's likely that after this there won't be much time in between." He doesn't say anything but watches you move away from the door and over to the desk to set down the laptop. 

"I can't explain as much as I want to, but I'll explain what I can." You were praying that this would be it, that you could free him from Hydra's clutches.

That Captain America would save his best friend.

You knew every time from day one, James Buchanan Barnes, Howling Commando and best friend to Steve Rogers, who didn't resurface until just recently. You were praying he was everything the stories were, that he never gave up, that he never left his friends behind and would keep Bucky _safe_. 

"You're going to start remembering more soon," His eyes harden and his fist clench. "I'm going to keep them from wiping your memory, but I need you to continue with the mission. I need you to do as they say, and when you meet Captain America.." You bite your lip and look away, he watches your hands twitch and come together, pressing into fists. "I need you to do what your gut tells you to, and not Hydra."

"I don't understand." 

You give a shaky laugh and cover it up by biting down on your lip. 

"I don't expect you to, not right now. But when the time comes, you'll know."

You look at him and he stares back, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Do you trust me?" You plead.

It comes with a great amount of hesitation but he slowly nods his head.

"I do."

* * *

"I've got his heat signature on the fourth floor. You need to hold, he's sitting down you won't reach him."

There's no confirmation on the other end of your microphone but you know he's listening to you intently. The conversations in the room are muffled by the music playing and what they're talking about is obviously not what's happening. The light flicks on and off after a brief moment and you continue to watch the heat signatures until Nick Fury, finally stands up.

"He's up when you have a clear shot, take it."

It's only a few moments before the microphone picks up the gunshots. The next is a blur, another person enters the room and soon - Captain America is in pursuit. 

You toss off the headset and immediately dash over to the window and peel it open. There's commotion on the roof and suddenly you jump away in surprise as the Winter Soldier lands on the window ledge and immediately hops into the room, quietly.

You both remain frozen, his back is facing the window and you watch it carefully. Awaiting to see if Captain America would continue the pursuit, but nothing happens, instead the famous hero rushes back to his apartment to assist in helping Nick Fury.

"We need to move." Your fingers gently tug on his sleeve, and you watch as he looks over at you and gives a soft subtle nod. You don't wait, gathering your things and leaving without a trace, into the night air and climb into the front seat as he climbs into the back. Tinted windows keeping him from view, neither of you say a word as you drive off into the empty streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize if this chapter and the next ones feel a bit.. rushed. There isn't much to be said in between each interaction so it's kind of skipping around to the important bits to get the meat of the story rolling. 
> 
> This is taking place during Winter Soldier, and we'll be doing some jumping around to Civil War so future chapters will contain spoilers, but I'll mark it at the top when we get there.
> 
> But as a note, how Civil war will have bits twisted to fit the story.


	7. Shaping up

"How do you know?" 

He's always so quiet, and you glance up into the rearview mirror to see him staring back. Tapping your finger on the steering wheel as you wait for the red light to change.

"How do I know what?"

"That I'll know."

You smile and slowly press on the peddle as the light turns green. He doesn't say anything when you don't take your turn and instead keep going, he hasn't said anything about the way you've simply been driving around aimlessly.

"Call it women's intuition." He gives something like a snort and there's a twitch of his lips, a partial smile, and your heart melts in your chest. It brings forth a pain that immediately drains the butterflies from your stomach and instead makes you want to pull over and throw up. The grin on your face at his smile fades away until it matches the twist of his lips. 

A bitter smile.

"You're handsome when you smile." You don't look back at him, don't see the red that slowly tinges his cheeks or how his good arm comes to wipe down his face, hanging around his mouth to cover it up and hide the smile from view.

There's the small part of you that questions your ability to think this through clearly, that questions how smart it was to have fallen in love with the Soldier who's forgotten your face more times than you can count. Glancing back at the rear-view mirror you can see him looking out the window and there's a quiet type of peaceful air around him that you haven't seen in a long time.

Your heart throbs again and you withdraw one hand from the wheel to place a hand over the beating organ.

_At least it's in good hands._

* * *

"You're late." Pierce greets as you walk into the back of the bank. Having taken out another stick of gum to hide your nervousness, and instead of replying at first you simply stare at him as the Winter Soldier walks back into the room and takes his seat.

"Well you know, part of being good at my job is making sure we aren't followed, Pierce. Assassination isn't your strong point, try and leave it to the professionals, yeah?"

He lifts his hand and the impact hurts for the briefest of second, neck twisting at the momentum of his backhand. There's commotion in the back but it goes unnoticed by the two of you, the red mark immediately fading away before it had time to fully form.

"Your attitude is pushing it, [Name]. Do I need to remind you that I'm in charge?"

You turn your head back to face him, blowing another bubble which only further annoys him if the vein that begins to show on his temple is anything to go by.

"What are you gonna do that hasn't been done already, Pierce? They've done it all, anything you wanna throw at me, I assure you has been done before. Forgive me if the threats all seem a little empty."

You don't bother to wait for a response and instead walk passed him to see some assistants watching the Winter Soldier who was watching you. Form rigid until you flashed him a smile and then he eased up, allowing himself to be pushed back into the seat.

"[Name].." Pierce says, turning on his heel to watch you hike yourself back up on the table. You blatantly ignore him in favor of staring across the room, lifting one leg up onto the table and propping your chin onto your knee.

Pierce lets out a frustrated sigh before moving to the front of the room to stand in front of everyone and it's with great reluctance that he says what he does while you're in the room.

"It seems they have figured out Project Insight, we've located them at one of the old bunkers where some of Dr. Zola's intelligence was. We performed an aerial strike, but they survived, we're currently in pursuit."

Your leg drops down from its propped position and hits the metal of the desk loud enough to leave a crash as sarcasm drips from your lips.

"Oh, _great_. How did that happen?"

"It seems we've underestimated them." He bites out, trying to remain calm in the presence of your scrutiny. 

"Anything _else_? This went from a simple assassination job to cleaning up your fucking _mistakes_ , are we sure you're fit to lead this?"

There's a bullet to your head, the world goes dark and your body hits the floor with an echoing crash as your dead weight nearly topples the desk over as well. The Winter Soldier rises up, ready to move but is halted by Pierce's hand.

"She'll be fine, I just needed her to close her trap for more than five seconds."

The Winter Soldier looks over at your form, he doesn't see any blood pooling and his eyes are hard as he looks back at Pierce.

"I know she's your handler, forgive me. She gets-" He sighs and clears his throat. "Never mind, we're searching for the leaked information. Be ready and on call for tomorrow."

He files out of the room with the rest of the assistants in tow, nervous murmuring among them and it's only when the metal door is shut tightly, locking the two of you in there that he moves.

His feet quickly take him to your side and he can feel his good hand begin to tremble as he reaches out to you. One hand tracing the side of your jaw before gently turning your head, surprise filtering his features when he sees no blood or hole on your forehead.

There's an overwhelming sense of dread as you lay there lifelessly, and he immediately picks you up from the cold ground and brings you to the chair that at least has some cushion on it before setting you down. He feels the back of your head and it's got some wet blood but there isn't any hole. When he turns your head to recheck your forehead his own eyes widen when he sees your [color] ones looking at him.

"Sorry," You say quietly as you slowly pull yourself to sit up. He takes a step back and your heart jumps into your throat, was it _fear_ that made him back away?

You shook your head slightly, it didn't matter what it was. Your objective was the same.

"I can regenerate."

You say quietly as you finally look up at him, there's a fear in his eyes that makes your heart clench and you immediately look away. 

"Get some rest," You say, drowning out all the emotion in your voice and hoping it comes out perfectly neutral as you remove yourself from the seat and motion for him to take it instead.

"You'll need it for tomorrow."

"And you?"

You smile to yourself but keep your back to him.

"You don't need to worry about me." 

_"You don't need to worry about me."_ He feels a desperation in his chest, as the memory fades away before he can grasp it, and he is tempted to ask you but you've already slunk off to a corner and curled up, the laptop at your feet as you quickly tack away at the keyboard. Instead, he sits himself down and leans his head back in the chair, and allows the sleep to take him.

"Wake up." You gently prod his good arm and his eyes snap open to look at you. You're tugging back your long hair to pull into a ponytail. "We need to move. Rogers is heading out and they have the leaked information."

He doesn't miss the aggravation in your tone, but he stands up and rolls out the stiffness in his joints before following after you.

* * *

The giant hummer they drive is large, heavily armored and the Winter Soldier can't help but find your small form driving it an amusing aspect. The AC is blasting and you're chewing bubble gum with one hand resting on the door to prop your head up.

"They're several cars in front of us." 

He glances to the person beside him before the sunroof rolls open and he glances at you, who hasn't looked away from the car you've been following.

"Go get 'em, tiger."

He doesn't say anything more, as he hefts himself up out the top. The second he's on the roof he's already jumping from car to car. Another soldier goes to follow but you immediately close the sunroof, ignoring his incredulous expression.

"What?" You question glancing up at him in the rearview mirror. "We're letting all the cool air out." His features harden and you roll your eyes as you press on the peddle. "You'll just get in the way."

The annoyance from the soldier brings a twitch to your lips as you blow another bubble, watching the Winter Soldier land onto the car and immediately the compromised Hydra agent is out the window and splattered by an oncoming semi-truck in the opposite lane.

"Ouch."

The Soldiers within the vehicle don't say anything but give you a look. You watch the Winter Soldier carefully and suddenly the car he's on top of jerks to a halt and throws him off, your heart clenches in your chest and you watch as he easily brushes it off, his prosthetic arm preventing him from sliding too far.

Pressing down on the peddle you planned to bulldoze the vehicle driving in front, as well as the car containing Captain America, but the white one in front turns out of the way to avoid the stopped car which you happily ram straight into.

He jumps up and lands on top of the car again and you see the smoke from the brakes being applied by the car in front of you and give a small snort. Did they expect that small thing to stop yours? You pressed harder on the peddle to keep the momentum going. Bullet shots pierce through the roof of the car he's on after forcefully removing the steering wheel, and the Winter Soldier retreats. Jumping back and you make sure that the car is there for him to land on. 

"You alright?" You ask, pressing against the device in your ear and though there's no verbal response you watch his head for the subtle nod he assures you with. Confirmation given, you step on the gas even harder, slamming into the back end of the car and without its steering wheel its wheels twist and slam it into the concrete wall. The momentum of the impact and the tires twisting you watch as it begins to flip, Captain America and his trio dropping out of the damaged door as the car spirals out of control.

You continue forward before pressing on the breaks and turning the car, watching as the Winter Soldier jumps out and the door unlocks with a click as the soldiers all file out. Handing out weapons to each other and handing one big one to the Winter Soldier who takes it before aiming at two of them.

The blast is loud, and the impact is even louder as it rings against the metal of Captain America's shield and sends him flying through the air and straight off the highway bridge and into oncoming traffic. You winced internally and hoped he'd be alive to finish what you had in plan, wouldn't do you any good if he wasn't. Another explosion sends the Romanoff assassin heading for cover, before dropping off the side of the bridge. 

You hadn't planned to get out, Hydra gave you very specific orders not to get involved. They couldn't allow your ability to get public eye, or even let any of the remaining loyal SHIELD agents know about it. But the second the bullet hits the side of the Winter Soldier's glasses your heart seizes and anger floods through your veins.

"Get back in the car, [Name]." You can hear the voices of the other soldiers who have watched you exit and simply take the metal device out of your ear and toss it to the side. 

He's hopping over the ledge by the time you make your way over to them, and the hydra agents are ready to follow before the last man, Sam Wilson you recall, prevents them from following. You take your time over to him, allowing him to fire at more hydra agents before he calls out to the still okay Captain Rogers.

"Sir." You call out getting closer but he doesn't react, continuing to fire shots at the remaining hydra soldiers. "Sir!" You call again and this time, he reacts, stepping away from the concrete wall to look over at you, and you smile at him cautiously.

"Are you alright?"

"Ma'am, for your own safety you need to get out of here, and quickly."

"My own safety?" You're stalling, "But I just saw you fall out of a car and who are those men!?"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry I don't have time, get to safety as fast as you can!" He doesn't say any more, stepping back to the ledge and you can see he's aiming at the Winter Soldier and you move over to grab the gun and jerk it up just as he fires, obviously missing.

"But sir, I insist." 

"Wha-" Your elbow hits him in the face and you free the gun from his clutches during his moment of stupor and toss it over the ledge.

"Girl you are in the wrong business."

You smile at him, and he watches you eerily.

"You have no idea."

You run at him, aiming to swing at his head but he ducks low to avoid your feint and is instead met with your knee slamming into the side of his head. He stumbles back, throwing several punches that you dodge, and keep pressing against him on the offensive. 

He's better than you expected him to be, his aim isn't to tire you out or knock you out. He's aiming for something that'll instantly end you and when he gets it with his closed fist knocking into your jaw and snapping your neck he lets out a sigh of relief as you immediately stop moving and begin to fall back.

"That hurt."

He freezes and watches as your neck snaps back into place, and before he can comprehend what's just happened, your foot hits the side of his temple and he hits the ground like you should have.

"You'll be fine." You say backing away and pulling the gun from the strap on your thigh. "Hopefully."

Looking back at the battle below you can see Romanoff attempting something but you immediately aim and fire, the shot hits her in the shoulder and you move from your position. Heading back to your vehicle to disappear from the scene, by the time you reach it you can hear on the radio that the Winter Soldier has been retrieved and you make your way back to the bank where you're supposed to meet.

* * *

His expression is dazed and fear begins to fill up your veins as you glance over to the increased security in the room. If it had just been the assistants you wouldn't have had any trouble should he not be able to hold himself together. His expression was so lost, and his blue eyes fitted over to you and you reluctantly move from your spot over to the people working on his arm.

"Move."

"I'm sorry what-"

"Move. I'll do it."

"But-"

"Just move." You finally said, allowing irritation to creep into your voice as the man working on his arm immediately puts the tools down onto the tray before evacuating the room. The guards in the room glance back before following out, the heavy gate closing behind them with an echoing bang.

The Winter Soldier looks over at you as you look at his arm, it had been awhile since you worked on it. But as his handler, you knew it better than you knew your own arm and immediately set to work on repairing the damage Romanoff had done with her little stun toy.

"I knew him." His head his bowed and you don't worry about anyone hearing him, he's too quiet, too dazed.

"I know." 

He looks at you with a start but you're too busy working on his arm and he doesn't move further to attempt anything.

"How?" He watches your expression, watches you bite down on your lip as you continue the delicate process of repairing his arm.

"Women's intuition." You joke, but it doesn't bring the small smile to his face and instead he looks away which feels like a stab to the gut and you let out a heavy sigh.

"You're getting your memories back, remember what I told you?"

"Pretend I don't remember anything, and trust.. my gut." He repeats looking over at you carefully.

"What's going to happen?"

You set down the tools and close up the plate on his arm, keeping your hand resting on it and press your forehead to the cool metal.

"Hopefully something good, but you need to trust me."

"Do I have to hurt him?"

"No, you can just play pretend."

The silence swallows you both and you don't look up at his curious face that watches you carefully.

* * *

You aren't with him this time around as he's ordered to help stop Captain America from preventing Project Insight. He doesn't want to hurt the people but there's a nagging feeling telling him that it's not the right time, and so he does his best not to _kill_ anyone, but knocks them out hard, hoping they don't get up for awhile.

It's only when he comes across Captain America that he realizes what you mean, and he doesn't fight with everything he has. There's anger in him, though, a feeling of abandonment by this blonde and blue-eyed stranger and it fuels him to complete what he's been tasked to do.

He ignores the words that are coming from Roger's mouth, ignores what he says but the pain in his chest only grows with each hit. They had failed to prevent Captain America from stopping Project Insight, but he could still complete his mission, he could still-

* * *

His footsteps are angry as he enters the Bank where the hydra agents await, they let him through without a word and it's only when he reaches the back does the anger he feel fade away to surprise.

The room is destroyed, the machine he remembers sitting on for memory wipes is destroyed. The few assistants in the room are shrinking away from him but he doesn't steer away, he moves toward them and his voice is heavy, the anger is back.

"What happened here?"

They are trembling, unwilling to open their own mouths to speak and instead one of them holds out a trembling hand with a device labeled for him.

With a snatch, he takes it from the scared scientists and holds it up much like he'd seen you do when you were replaying a video.

Your face pops up on the holographic screen that appears and his chest tightens, why were you on the screen and not here? He had forgotten all about you.

"Bucky," You start and he jerks.

"Who's Bucky?" He demands.

"You're probably wondering why I know that, and if you haven't regained more of your memories you're probably wondering why I called you that.

There's a museum in New York, you should stop by it before you leave. And yes, you are leaving. It's been a _long_ time, a very long time. I've planned this from the beginning, and I'm only sorry that it's taken me so long to get you out of their clutches.

It wasn't until Dr. Zola died that things became.. easier to work around. People tend to forget what happened in the past, what you know. And their fascination wasn't as great as his, so they feared me more than they were intrigued by me. I used that to my advantage.

You need to get out of Hydra, you can use this chance to escape. I'm sorry, originally this was going to play out very differently but thanks to Pierce and his convenient fuck up, it's made things a bit.. messier, but none the less my goal is accomplished.

You're free.

Don't look back, don't come looking for me. I've played all my cards and Hydra will soon find out who was pulling the strings. They say that the bad guys never win and thankfully I dumped all my money into that pot. Looks like for once, I won."

He watches you laugh, but it's hollow and there's a painful expression on your face as you take a shuddering breath.

"You need to leave this place as quickly as you can, don't worry about the guards. I took care of them, and those assistants that are likely cowering in the corner? Once this video ends there's a special thing implanted in them that they probably don't remember me doing, a convenient thing that chair is, isn't it? But once this video ends, they'll likely die."

There was some horrified screaming that Bucky immediately tuned out as he watched your broken expression.

"Don't come back, Bucky. If I see you again, it'll be too soon."

You smile another broken smile at the camera once more before it goes black and true to your word, the assistance all drop to the ground. Body convulsing and he stares at them horrified at what's just happened.

He's left alone with the device that short-circuits and fries before he drops it to the ground.

_You're free._

_If I see you again, it'll be too soon._

There's a swelling panic in his chest, he's free but free to do _what_? His feet move before he can think about it and he stops short to see the duffle bag outfitted with a little bow. Inside are a change of clothes, gloves, and a hat to keep him hidden, to help him blend in, and he wonders how far ahead you've been planning this.

It's short work to change into the new outfit, pull on the gloves and the hat fits into place before he leaves. The guards are absent from their positions and once he steps out into the bright sunshine, he feels lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the chapter spam haha, it wanted to write itself and get Bucky free! This ends the winter soldier arc, you'll make a brief appearance in age of ultron and from there things are gonna start steering away from canon. Civil war will happen differently, when that chapter is up though I'll label it as spoilers.
> 
> Finally we're getting to the meat of things, whoop whoop.


	8. Checking out on the prison bus

_He's out and free and you feel like the world around you is as cold as the landscape that passes beneath you. The roar of the helicopter blades drowns out all the noise, drowns out the heavy beating of your own heart. You focus on the sound, focus on the vibrations that shake the helicopter as they remove you from close proximity of the Avengers._

_With project Insight gone, and so many high ranking Hydra agents gone it's left most for a scramble. Left them trying to remove their number one asset so it doesn't get captured, too._

_Your hands are trembling, clenched tightly into fists as you gather the steel fibers inside yourself to coax your face into the best poker face you can muster. It's not entirely hard, the steel fortress that had so readily crumbled at the hands of Bucky is still there, and without him pulling off the pieces it's easier to build it back up._

_But there's a throbbing in your chest down into your stomach, it makes it hard to breathe, makes it hard to think and when you allow yourself to think about him the burning of tears stings against your eyes._

_"..Compromised."_

_Lifting your head up, you can see them glancing back at you. Making out brief words over the roar of the helicopter._

_"..Betrayed."_

Be like steel. _You remind yourself, glancing back down at the gun strapped to your thigh before resuming the empty staring at the floor._

_"We need to make a pit stop."_

_You can hear him over the roar of the blades and you know then, that they've figured out who helped him escape. You don't say anything, not for awhile and when one of them looks back to make sure you're still sitting there, palms thick with sweat._

_You had never betrayed Hydra before and now they were instructed to bring you back to one of the main bases._

_When he looks away again you rub a hand down your face and watch the scenery below. You don't know how long you've been up here, the once blue sky has faded away to white, and matches the snow that passes below._

_You aren't even exactly sure where here is, but you know exactly what's going on. Hydra was like a human body, you took away a few fingers from it but overall it was still alive, still beating. You were at the heart, the heart of every project, the heart of all their technology because if you could survive it, then so could others._

_You were the perfect guinea pig._

_The strap holding your gun clicks with a simple tug and you pull the gun from its holster. You knew this would happen, knew it would come down to this. Prepared yourself for years of this, when they gave you leeway thinking you could be a trusted agent you made sure to set up your plans. Set up different areas to run to._

_You knew that freeing Bucky would get you captured and tortured for the rest of your life and that freedom for you was only in running away._

_You reach up to the straps hanging from the ceiling and heft yourself up on shaky ground, finger curling around the trigger of the gun as you make your way to the front pilot seats._

_They don't hear you over the large noise suppressing headphones, and with all the stealth and training that you've lived for you snake your arm around the seat of one of them and yank your forearm back straight across the throat of one of the pilots, immediately choking him to his seat._

_The other reacts but you're already pointing your gun to him. The wind within the open doors of the helicopter kicks your hair up but you steel yourself,_

_"Sit back down."_

_He does so with great reluctance as his partner continues to choke against your hand. Attempting to reach back and grab you but the seat he's in makes a decent barrier._

_"Don't do this, [Name]."_

_You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood briefly, and the neutral expression melts away from your face revealing the confliction. The red of your eyes comes back and your lips are formed into a snarl._

_"Sorry," It comes out of trembling lips, "But as long as you guys are looking for me, you aren't going to be looking for him."_

_You fire the first shot and blood splatters the window and dyes it red. His body falls limp, only held to his seat by the seatbelt and the second body struggling against your arm finally goes limp and when no more resistance presses against your arm you remove it and fire the second shot right into the console._

_Lights go off, and the cockpit starts to flash a red as it slowly begins to lose control. It slams you backward, nearly toppling outside the helicopter as it dips in altitude and loses control._

_Grabbing onto the buckles for your seat you clasp yourself in, clinging tightly to the hanging straps for support, the wind whips your hair around as the failing helicopter descends faster and faster. Spinning more and more until what's below is nothing more than a spinning white blur._

_You hit the first tree and the blades snap, and explosions light up the cockpit and the fire engulfs your senses and the world turns black._

The world comes back with a start, the crack of fire and heavy smoke immediately fills your lungs. Colors fill up your vision and everything is white and for a moment you wonder if you've finally died, but the pain hits seconds after the thought and you cry out.

The entire area is a wreckage, pieces of the helicopter are scattered about, trees are lit on fire and the pain in your body is from the spinning helicopter blade that's trapped you beneath its heavy weight. 

"Ah.. shit." You can feel the tears in your eyes dripping down, your own hands feel foreign, covered in blood and rapidly healing from the third-degree burns. The blade weighs down on your leg, and even as you wiggle your fingers beneath it, and heft with all your might it doesn't budge from your leg.

"Shit, shit, shit." You cry out, wiping the tears from your face and smearing more blood around. 

_There's no way I can lift this._ You think desperately, hoping that hydra wouldn't get here before you managed to escape. How long you were out is a complete mystery, the watch on your wrist is thoroughly busted. 

_I'm gonna have to cut off my own leg._ The thought horrifies you at first, you've experienced them removing limbs many times but the pain never went away, never dulled. It hurt the thousandth time as if it was the first time they had removed it.

You can feel the panic welling up into your chest, anxiety overriding your senses at the thought of what you have to do. Your fingers are trembling and there are more tears spilling from your eyes blurring your vision.

"Oh God, oh God." You're desperate, desperate to get away and to get it over with. Your own trembling hands feel for your leg, most of it has pierced through the flesh, and halfway into the bone. You just- you just needed to push it the rest of the way through.

Your heart beats a mile a minute as you place your hands on the large blade, it was too tall for you to reach the top and press your hands down onto it. You'd have to wiggle it until the weight collapsed onto it fully. The weight would severe the rest of your leg.

It takes a few tries and it hurts worse than you imagined, black dots dance across your vision and finally the blade collapses onto your leg with a start. The pain flares up instantly and your mouth snaps wide open to let out the blood-curdling scream of pain, tears coat your vision making everything one big blur as you drop back, writhing in the snow as your blood covers the ground.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You pull yourself back on trembling hands until you're far enough away from your own severed leg. The pain courses through your veins and you bite down on your lip trembling fingers clutching at your dismembered leg.

It takes another heartbeat of agonizing pain before it rebuilds itself, bone snapping out and reforming followed by muscles and flesh until all that's left is the regenerated limb against the freezing snow. You wiggle your toes briefly before using what's left of your burned sleeve to wipe down your face of the tears.

It takes you a couple tries to get to your feet, trembling limbs and the imprint of pain still fresh in your mind that you can swear you feel the ghost sensation of it all over again.

"Keep it together, [Name]. We need to move." You were your own best friend, not that its ever changed. You think bitterly with a quiet sob as a roar of emotions overwhelm you. 

Bucky never remembered you, never remembered the times in between. Maybe one day he'd get those memories back but what would he think of you? You did your best to get him out of Hydra, but it had taken so _long_ and that fact alone made you want to cry even harder.

The smoke of the wreckage burns your eyes, and to prevent frostbite from the snow you've retrieved the boot from your severed leg, peeling off the sock to put it on followed by the shoe, slowly tying the lace. It's an odd sensation to see your own severed limb still in the wreckage and have a new one. There's no supplies to salvage, and with that in mind you head out into the white landscape, picking a random direction and following it. 

It was so cold, what little daylight you had faded away as you continued to travel farther. You had lost feeling within your limbs several hours ago and each step felt like lead, too much energy to lift up one leg after the other.

And you were so incredibly tired.

So you found yourself on a tree branch thick enough to hold your weight and from the dark sky you could still see the fading smoke from the wreckage far away. Nothing but a small dot within the vast landscape and space you put between it.

The snow continued to fall, steady and covered your arms and the top of your head with a light dusting. Your entire body shuddered in the cold and you gave a harsh ragged cough, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them and burying your face to your knees.

"I'm tired," You whisper to yourself, lifting your head up to stare into the distance. "I'm tired of hydra, the snow." Though the emotion swept over you, and your eyes burned red you had no excess energy for tears. 

"I'm tired of people forgetting me." You dig your nails into your arms and bite on your lip. "I'm tired of all the times you forgot me." You choke on a sob, the emotion is raw and you can see his face. Sometimes when he forgot he looked confused, sometimes he looked cold, and then in those rare instances when you couldn't keep it together, he looked so _concerned_.

"If I'm gonna die out here, please, I don't wanna wake up." 

"Just let me go."

_"Why are you still with them?" He's so curious this time around, questions every night turn into long discussions. He never usually talks this much, not in all the times he's had his memory wiped so you indulge every question he has._

_The bed squeaks as you turn over to face him, he's on his back, hands across his stomach but he slowly turns his head to you. The look of confusion on his face furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips, the wide curious blue eyes. He's not innocent in any way, even before he lost his memory, before he was apart of hydra, there was bloodshed on his hands, to call him innocent would be an insult to him._

_But he was so beautiful, and there was so much humanity in him that it made your chest physically ache. Those bright blue eyes looking you over as he tries to figure out what keeps you here._

_"I have something I want to protect."_

_His eyes snap to your own [color] ones, and he watches you smile. It's broken like it always is and doesn't reach your eyes, and not for the first time he wonders what it would be like if it did reach your eyes. If you didn't look so broken._

_"Are.. they holding them hostage?"_

_He's slow to word his questions, knows it's dangerous territory to ask. But he can't help himself, he knows you don't like hydra, knows you don't care for them. How could you care for an organization that tortures you every night, that _kills_ you every night._

_"Something like that," You start slowly, watching his expression as he looks away from you and back at the ceiling. Obviously thinking it over, hard. "I'm just.. sorry, I can't get them out sooner. I see them, here, in pain. I can deal with pain, I can take what they give to me. I always have, but they.. they are so _human_." _

_He turns his head to watch you, your face is scrunched up like you're in physical pain and your eyes are glassy. His chest tightens at the sight._

_"I'm afraid by the time I can do anything they'll take away that humanity. I'll be too late, that when they're free they'll look back and think I was always just a part of this.. hell. I was a part of it, that I kept them here." Your confession is rolling off your lips and you can't bring yourself to look at him, but you clench the thin wool blanket in your hands tightly. "I'm scared they'll think I went along with this each time, that they'll forget how I fought each time, and that they'll hate me as much as they hate this place."_

_He stares at you for a long time and you can't bear it any longer, shutting your eyes tightly and feeling the tears drip down your face. His bed squeaks and when you open your eyes he's holding out his good hand for you to take. It's slow for you to remove your limb from the tight clutches of the blanket, but he's patient and when you put your hand in his, he doesn't squeeze it, but there's a soft smile to his face._

_"I don't.. think they'll hate you. Not when they see what you've gone through, for them."_

_He doesn't understand why you look so surprised at him, why the onslaught of tears comes harder, all he knows is that you slowly curl your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing his hand._

_"Thank you."_

The world floods back to you, senses returning to life and you realize how cold you are. It's a bitter realization that you died, and that once again you've woken up from it. There's mixed emotions over it, frustration because you're here, alive, and sadness because the memory had faded all too soon. His hand over yours, the rough callouses from all the training, the gentle way he held your smaller hand.

He was free though, free and you had to keep moving because the faster you moved the more it kept hydra on your track and off of his. The moment they captured you they would be sure to double back and find him.

"C'mon [Name]." You tell yourself, easing out your stiff and frozen limbs with a pained groan as circulation gets flowing again. The trip down the tree is more difficult than the trip up, you end up with frozen fingers that have difficulty grasping onto limbs and eventually you slip and plummet to the ground. Thankfully you land on the soft snowbank.

Your entire body gives a shudder thanks to the damp clothes from all the snow, wrapping your arms around yourself as you trudge through it's foot high bank. 

"Keep going [Name], our job isn't done yet." You glance behind you, the smoke from the wreckage is gone and you pull yourself together to push harder.

There's an aching thought of _when will our job be over_ to yourself, so you could simply roll over and give up. But you harden the feeling of despair that it brings, telling yourself that your job will never be over.

Not until he's lived a long life away from hydra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is safe from hydra.. but are you?
> 
> On an unrelated note.. I got a [tumblr](http://awaitingjudgementx.tumblr.com/) if anyone wants to follow me. *shameful advertising*
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for your continued support. I really feel like some of this story is rushed, but I also feel like it really couldn't have gone much differently without dragging on, either. Hopefully, now the pacing will feel a bit.. better?
> 
> Next chapter we'll be looking to Bucky and will start some of the Civil War bits, but like I said how the movie went and how this story goes is going to be different. I'll tag spoilers at the top, anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR**

The Avengers home is big, well designed but also unnecessary. It was on private property that spanned several acres to keep people away but in doing so it also made them a large target for people to attack. It was obvious, with a giant A on the side of the building, it let everyone know exactly where everyone was located and the assassin in him told him that it was _dangerous_. Even with all the technology and security it felt superficial, his instincts screamed that he needed to find a better place, smaller, hidden away to keep people off of him.

It had taken a lot of convincing on Steve's part to get Tony to let him stay, and it was the only reason Bucky remained rooted to the place. Howard Stark's son had every reason to hate him, even if Steve tried to convince him that Tony didn't hate him but was just dealing with his grief the best way he knew how.

T'Challa in his attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between them had loaned some of his best scientists to help recover his memories and remove the brainwashing. Tony had blatantly refused, and T'Challa had, as a peace offering for accusing him of the murder of his father.

_I murder one and am accused of another._

There's a bitter smile to his lips as he looks down at his new metal arm, ugly red star gone and the entire arm was improved. It didn't hurt like his hydra given metal arm did, and worked twice as well as theirs had.

The sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts and he looks up to see his old friend walking toward him. A smile on his face and bright blue eyes, eager to have another face to talk to, but it brings a sinking feeling into his gut. Did Steve expect to have his old friend back in its entirety? That Bucky was long gone, torn away by war and experimentation, he would never go back to being that Bucky, nor would he ever go back to the Winter Soldier, either. It was redefining himself all over again and it left him lost, grabbing for strands of himself that felt familiar and comfortable and slowly weaving himself into a brand new person.

It was a difficult experience.

"Hey, Buck." 

Glancing up at his friend he gives a small half smile, not moving from his seat in fear of moving or messing with the equipment attached to him.

"You look like you're about to undergo brain surgery." Steve jokes and Bucky gives a snort, which only seems to make Steve brighter.

"It's not far from it." He comments, lifting a hand up to hover over all the equipment attached to his head.

"What are they expecting to happen?"

Bucky struggles to find the words, they had gone over it briefly with him and explained what was going to happen but it was like listening to another scientific language that had gone straight over his head.

"Something about-"

"The device should filter a lot of the damage from all the memory wipes, and in time, it should slowly help him recover his memories. When his body feels it's safe to remember without damaging himself, he'll begin to remember more and more things. It aids the brain's recovery, nothing more and nothing less."

The dignified man responded with ease as he stepped into the room, dark eyes taking in the two figures in the room with a small smile.

"Your Highness." Steve greeted, stepping away from Bucky to go greet the man.

"T'Challa is fine." He shakes Roger's hand before looking over at Bucky,

"How are you feeling my friend?"

"Fine," Bucky gives a smile but T'Challa is no fool, he knows.

"For the moment?" The smile on Bucky's face slides off and he looks at the ground. 

Long strides plant him next to Bucky and a sturdy hand rests on the man's good shoulder.

"It is a difficult path, to remember all you have gone through. No one would blame you if you didn't want to remember."

Bucky glances toward Steve who's eyes are so filled with concern and looks back down at the ground.

_"Who are you?"_

_"Your constant."_

The memory comes with a sharp pain in the front of his head and the monitor watching his heartbeat spikes. Face scrunched in pain as he leans forward to press his forehead into his hands.

"Are you alright?" Steve questions coming closer, but afraid to touch his friend as T'Challa looks over at the flashing screen.

"Did you remember something?" The King of Wakanda questions and Bucky takes a slow and steady breath, eyes opening and the light in the room suddenly pounds against his head.

"No."

T'Challa glances at Steve, sharing a knowing look between the two of them before they change the topic easily enough, the relief on Bucky's shoulders obvious.

_"I know you from somewhere." He watches the woman walk in front of him, a predatory walk that he's familiar with himself. She takes long strides around him, but her face is blurry, and every time she looks at him it's like her face is crossed out by large black lines._

_"You should." Her voice is quiet and he watches her slowly walk backward, watches the world shift around them, fold away until she falls back into a chair. People are there dressed in white coats, their faces covered by masks and the power tools they hold all turn on, picking different limbs before beginning to saw off the limbs._

_His heart beats rapidly as he watches them, watches as the black and blurry of her face melts away until he's staring at her, so familiar and so foreign. The tools hit bone and her face is covered in blood._

_"What-"_

_"I did this for you." He freezes, watching as the sawed off limbs drop to the ground, fingers still twitching and the smile that graces her face. Sadistic and cruel, baring her teeth at him._

_"You don't remember?"_

_"No, I-"_

_"How cruel."_

_He watches the limbs regenerate, watches them draw the blade across her neck, watches the blood drip down her skin, dip into the white clothes she's wearing, staining them red._

_"How many people did you kill?"_

_"I didn't want to."_

_"Does that make a difference?"_

_She stands up, one leg missing and it regenerates almost instantly, bone outstretching, muscle following, skin last and her foot touches the ground as she walks over to him. Face to face, a hand reaching up and he flinches away and watches with horror as the hand he burns away from drops to the ground, another regenerating in its place._

_"You killed so many "Bucky" what does that make you? Are you innocent? Do you wash your hands clean and say 'they made me do it?' You can't run from what you've done."_

_"I'm not trying to." He grits out, watching as [color] eyes meet his own._

_"Are you sure about that?"_

_Her regenerated hand reaches up again, and the second she touches his skin it's like fire. Every touch she places on him ignites and burns, he grits his teeth, heaving, and grunting._

_"Who are you trying to lie to James? Me?" Her laugh is hollow, broken, familiar. He watches and clenches his jaw as she backs away, blood dripping from wounds that begin to open up on her body._

_"What about me? You remember all of these people you kill but what about me?"_

_"Who are you?" He finally gets out, unable to move and the pain of her touches still burns through him like liquid fire. She laughs, laughs so hard but it's so hollow and there are tears dripping down her face. The pain filled laugh echoing into his core, twisting his chest and forcing his heart to drop into his stomach._

_"Your constant."_

"Bucky!" Icy blue eyes snap open and he jumps up, immediately slammed back into his seat by a hand. Frantic he looks around, throwing the hand that shoved him back off his shoulder. 

"Bucky, it's me, Steve." Panic, instinct tells him to run but there are things attached to him, holding him to the chair and he looks to the voice. Seeing Steve with his hands held up and many of the scientists staring at him wide eyed. Sweat beads down his forehead and each breath feels like he's swallowing glass. The touches from her still feel fresh but when he looks down, hands patting himself down, he's on fire he's-

"Bucky, you were having a nightmare." Steve attempts to soothe, taking a step closer with his hands still held up in surrender.

Wild blue eyes look up, and his expression is strained.

"Was I?"

* * *

He doesn't want to sleep, doesn't want the nightmares to come, that plague him each time he closes his eyes. Doesn't want to see the face that scowls at him, doesn't want to watch as they take her apart piece by piece, as she yells at him. The touches she leaves burn across his body, and each time he falls asleep he wakes to them, and each time he checks the mirror to see only the old scars from times long passed.

He knows that Steve is worried, knows that T'Challa is doing everything he can to make sure that everything that's going on is just memories, assures him nothing has been implemented into his brain. 

His leg bounces rapidly as he stares out at the large glass wall, looking to the lights of the city that surround their little piece of home. He's afraid to close his eyes, afraid to see anything else. Are they memories? He can't remember, half the time he can barely _think_. Clinging to strands of himself that he feels are right, but easily lost to the nightmares.

"You haven't been sleeping well." Bucky starts, looking over at the entrance to the large living room to see Wanda standing there, hands fumbling together in front of her as she looks at him uneasily.

With a sigh Bucky sinks back into the couch, his leg involuntarily bouncing once more as he continues to stare into the distance. Here, but not, a state between the waking world and the sleeping. Heavy and dark bags sit beneath his eyes and he can't bring himself to eat much lately either, he sees blood and body parts and his appetite is lost.

"Can I sit?"

He doesn't say anything, rubs a hand down his face before his repaired metal arm gestures for her to take a seat. She does so with great caution, and he watches out of the corner of his eye as she takes a seat up at the end of the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and fumbling with the jewelry on her fingers.

He remembers the fingers falling off, hitting the floor with small thuds and immediately looks away.

"You wake up screaming a lot."

Well shit, did everyone hear? With an aggravated sigh, he closes his head and leans his head back.

"Sorry."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't-" _"You need to let people in Buck, they all want to help, you just need to_ let them. _"_ He purses his lips, looking down at his lap as a silence comes over them, unsure of what to say, where to start. 

"When I was younger," Wanda speaks first and it surprises him, he looks over and his leg stops bouncing as she manipulates the red around her fingers, not looking at him but not looking at anywhere in particular. "A bomb hit our apartment building, it killed my parents. It hit the side, going off and the explosion took them instantly but knocked both my brother and I back. We didn't know what was happening, what was going on."

She takes a shuddering breath and finally drops her eyes to the red that dances around her fingers. 

"We scrambled to get together but a second bomb hit, the shell caused the roof to collapse and trap us beneath it. I have the logo forever engrained into my memory. Stark Industries."

Bucky's eyes flick to her in surprise and she looks up to give a small smile that fades away as she looks back down.

"I never thought I could forgive him, we hated him. His damn technology is the reason my parents are dead."

"Did you ever forgive him?" He doesn't raise his voice very much but she hears him clearly.

"I did, it came with time. Tony knows what you've done, and in time, he will realize that he can't stay mad at you. You are trying to change, just as he did."

"You're awfully wise." He watches the pink tinge her face and she looks up at him startled before looking away. "No, but they have all been kind. I've gotten help, to let go of the anger and the hate. But you can't do it without help, you can try."

He looks away from her and back out the large window, expression strained as he sighs and finally closes his eyes, relenting to the advice of his best friend and the younger girl.

"I have nightmares of hydra, what they did." He swallows hard, "But that's not the worst of it. There's always a woman in it, I know her. I can't remember where but I know her. She's always falling apart, literally. Her limbs get sawed off, her limbs disconnect. They always regenerate, her touches feel like fire."

He scrunches his face up, glancing to Wanda who looks forward thoughtfully before clearing her throat.

"I can, I can try to help." She lifts her hand up to show the glowing red swimming between her fingers.

"Maybe we can figure out who she is.. if she's someone at all."

He doesn't want to, doesn't want to involve her in this mess that lurks in his head but the other, larger part of him _needs to know_. The physical ache in his chest whenever he sees her, the need to reach out, to _protect_ every time she's pushed back into the forsaken chair.

"What do I have to do?"

Wanda is surprised but smiles and gets to her feet to move closer, sitting a respectful distance as the red of her powers bleeds into her eyes for concentration.

"Just sleep."

It wasn't a hard task, the exhaustion sweeping over him and the moment he allows himself to relax with his eyes closed, the world shudders away.

_"Where are we?" He speaks to her as if she's real, and what's always more disconcerting is the fact he's slowly beginning to realize that each time he comes across her he becomes aware of his body, aware he is asleep. It's an odd sensation to know you're asleep, to feel it, and to not be pulled from it._

_"You spent a lot of time here," Her voice is like silk, it reminds him of home, of comfort and soft touches. It melts his soul and the cruel smile on her face hardens it all over again. "Your favorite thing to do."_

_She walks over to him, the hands twisted behind her back come forward and she takes his metal arm and brings it up to her neck. Opening up the fingers one at a time, humming all the while._

_"What are you doing?" He can feel his chest tighten, the dread of what's to come even if he can't remember._

_His hand is open and she places her neck into his hand and his hand snaps around her neck in a vice grip. He's losing the control over his body again, and before he can protest he's standing outside watching it happen. Watching his body move, his arm lift her off the ground as the gurgling sounds of being choked fill up the empty room._

_He wants to yell stop, to reach out and grab his own arm to stop it, but he can't move. Forced to watch as the life drains from her and it's only when he lets go that everything rushes back into place. Forced back into the body that choked her and taking frantic steps back, holding the metal arm to his chest with wide eyes._

_She doesn't move for awhile, simply staring blankly at the ceiling._

_"I did that?" His voice trembles, his heart squeezes and he wants to deny it._

_"Every time." She glances at him and tilts her head to face him before pulling herself to sit up. The room bleeds away, back to the familiar room with the chair and the people all in white lab coats. He feels his breath become labored._

_"Are you trying to run away James?" She's easily hefted up by the men in white coats and strapped down._

_"No." He isn't sure what he's saying no to, the treatment he knows is about to happen or the fact he's not running away._

_He hears the tools turn on, but [color] eyes haven't looked away from him and he can't bring himself to turn away from them either. So he watches with horror as the tools hit flesh and the blood splatters against white coats, against the side of her face._

_He's frozen, his chest heaves, panic fills his body and he tries to move, to reach out, to get to her and stop them but he finds he's strapped down. The yellow tinted container moves above him, slowly falling over him and he struggles to move against the binds that hold him back. A shout of anger stumbles past his lips and as the container closes around him and the cold embrace starts to drown out his senses._

_Bloody hands slam against the yellow container, once, twice, three times before it shattered like snow. He can feel his own labored breathing as he stares at her, hair shadowing most of her face, but the cruel twist to her lips is there._

_"You can't run away."_

_Her hands are on his neck, his face, and like liquid fire the spots ignite every nerve in his body and he's screaming._

He wakes screaming, throwing himself forward and Wanda falls backward to avoid being knocked into, dragging herself away wide-eyed. Lights flick on and everyone's piling in, shouts of what's going on but Bucky can't bring himself to think clearly, chest heaving as his hands run down his face and neck, patting himself down before his wild blue eyes land on Wanda who is staring at him surprised.

"I know who she is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dundun, Wanda knows who you are, but the question is how?
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for all of the kudos' and comments, they mean the world to me. Hopefully, this chapter is good. The reader will definitely be reunited with Bucky in the next couple chapters, be prepared for the feels, though!


	10. Run

"Do you think she knows we're here?"

"Doubt it." Natasha says, sliding into her seat and handing Wanda her requested drink who smiles in appreciation before taking a sip. 

"What makes you so sure?"

"Women's intuition." Natasha replies smoothly, earning a snort from someone.

"Tell me again, why we're chasing after her?" Tony chimes in, clearly agitated.

"Because Tony, she's an ex-hydra agent who could have very valuable intel. If Hydra wants her, then it would be best to stay ahead of the game and make sure we have her."

"You guys are making her sound like an object." Wanda chimes in, clearly disapproving and a chorus of apologies and excuses file into the ear piece she's wearing. Natasha shares a smile with the witch, giving her a wink as she takes a sip of her own drink.

"We know very little about her, other than what was it? Rapid regeneration? Are we sure she doesn't have any other abilities we aren't aware of?" Rogers speaks into the earpiece, sitting across the street on an empty bench inside a park.

"That reminds me, twins, didn't you say she was the first to be experimented on with the staff? How did hydra know it was an initial success? She would have had to have gained _something_ for them to call it a success."

Wanda flounders for words and it's her brother who gives an auditory 'uh..' on the line before managing to formulate words.

"We don't.. know."

"So you're saying you underwent testing _assuming_ it was a success? Did you two even question?" Sam's horrified voice finally chimes in before Pietro's irritated voice fires back.

"Hey, Sokovia was under attack, we wanted to help out. We weren't getting a lot of the specifics to begin with.."

"Well this is fantastic," Tony bemoans into the earpiece, "We are tracking someone who's got rapid regeneration, if from what you two say is true, and a potential unknown ability. Who wants to bet it's eye beams? Anyone?"

"Really Tony?" Natasha speaks up, rolling her eyes.

"I bet shape shifting." 

Natasha watches as Wanda drops her head into her hands at her twins exclamation. 

"I think if the staff is going to give her anything, it's probably going to amplify or coincide with what she's already got." Clint chimes in, and Tony's _'oooh'_ followed shortly after.

"What makes you say that?" He questions.

"Can you really picture Pietro slowing down at all?" 

An indignant 'hey!' cries over the ear piece followed by multiple muffled laughter.

"Alright enough goofing off, anyone got eyes on her?" Rogers interrupts the banter as he squints against the sunlight, eyes looking around in the crowd.

"I got eyes, three stores down from your location, Nat. White sweatshirt, black hat, dark jeans."

"White?" Tony questions and Natasha replies smoothly. 

"Walking around in all black on a day like today? You'd draw more attention toward you than away."

"What she's a professional assassin?" 

"Yes." Came Bucky's short reply, obviously annoyed from his position inside a noisy cafe just outside the park Rogers was sitting in.

"Remember she's an ex-hydra agent, guys. To underestimate her would put us in a bad position." Rogers speaks up, taking the heat off his friend that he's sure Tony would give him.

"Are we sure she's ex-hydra?" Tony questions skeptically, and the silence over the earpiece gives him the answer he needs, and his scowl only gets bigger. "Yeah, I thought so."

* * *

There's a paranoia that lives in your bones, makes its home in your head and speaks louder than any noise could ever. It draws your gaze over your shoulders and encourages you to pull the hat down further, zip up your sweatshirt a little higher, tuck your hands into your pockets a little deeper. It paints vivid pictures in your head of what could happen if you stay in one place for too long, of all the people who could get hurt if anyone got involved. It drives you forward, keeps you moving when your legs get tired and keeps the sleep away at night, letting dark rings sit under your eyes as proof.

_She's lying to me-_

_I can't believe it!-_

_I wonder if this looks-_

_That cupcake store is back open-_

_Do you think he'll notice-_

A soft groan escapes past your lips as you bring your hands to your ears to block out the noise that slowly becomes deafening. It takes over all your senses, makes it hard to think straight, makes it hard to focus. 

_God don't just stand there-_

You glance at the person walking around you, shooting you a nasty look and take a couple steps away, bumping into someone.

"Hey!" _Christ, people need to watch it._

"Sorry." You bite out, moving into the alleyway and pressing your hands firmly to your head. Shallow breaths that you attempt to focus on as the noise gets steadily louder the more people file out into the streets.

It always starts with the noise, the deafening noise of the people around you. Followed by the hypersensitivity, the hyper-awareness of everything. The light against your eyes, the feeling of the fabric against your skin, the slightest breeze assaults your senses and picks up everything. 

"Not now." You whimper to yourself, allowing the refuge of the alleyway to shield you from the sun and from people walking into you. Back pressed up against the brick building as you drag yourself down it to a squatting position. Hands on either side of your head to cover your ears as you focus on the ground. Focus on the small cracks as the pounding in your head begins, the cracks becoming more defined and you squeeze your eyes shut, biting down on your lip but it heals the skin before you can even get close to breaking it.

_Chasing after an "ex" hydra agent, ex agent my ass._

Your blood runs cold, the noise that was deafening was fading away and instinct kicking in. Hands dropping from your ears as you tilt your head a fraction. The noise of everyone around you is gone, the only sound is your breathing and the breathing of one other person.

_United Nations is only allowing this because she may have valuable information. Hope Cap knows she's not going to get the same treatment as Bucky._

Your heart skips a beat and your hands are trembling, palms thick with sweat as you look up and toward the buildings. 

_"She's moved into an alleyway. Not moving."_

_They found me._ Your heart hammers into your chest, and you glance up at the roof spotting the person who ratted you out, eyes narrowing.

_Did she just? No.. she's not staring at me, is she?_

How many were there? Why were they after you? Hydra never mentioned your names in their records, they wanted you to remain as much of a secret as possible. Your name was never listed, you had a codename under their files if you ever were. It was to ensure even if they had fallen you were still their biggest secret.

You were still the beating heart of Hydra's tests.

No one could possibly link you to it-

 _Unless he remembers._ You can feel your heart pounding, ready to jump out of your chest. _If he thinks we're apart of hydra, thinks we did everything to him._

No, no, no. You did it all _for_ him, so why would he think that?

_We took too long to get him out. It's probably a part of his probation if he has any, track down agents apart of Hydra as he gets his memory back._

_..Is she doing?_

_Not moving, she's gone still._

_..Compromised?_

You could see the snow covered landscape when you close your eyes, see the pilots looking back at you. The mistrust and betrayal in their eyes. You knew what was coming for you then. 

You knew this would have come for you eventually.

The anxiety thrums beneath your skin, making your fingers twitch and making your breath come out in shallow gasps.

They found you again.

It takes a few more moments of heavy breathing before you calm yourself down, even yourself out and call back the steel fibers to coat your limbs. To steel your expression.

You had been running for years now, managing to keep everyone off your trail. You knew they would have found you eventually, knew that you would have to start running again rather than looking over your shoulder.

You turn on your heel, beginning to walk down the alleyway. You needed to lose them first, they already spotted you and you needed to get out of their sights first.

_"Moving down the alleyway."_

_"Following."_

Tugging the phone from your pocket you flipped the camera on and held it up to you, using your other hand to block off the top to make it look like you were trying to read a message against the glare of the sun. You could see someone following behind you, hat covering their face and a sweatshirt covering any other real distinguishing features from view.

Tucking the phone back into your pocket you didn't hesitate to slip into the crowd of people on the sidewalk. Blending in easily enough and your [color] eyes flicked to each building, following the group of people in front of you before breaking off inside a small but cluttered clothing store. 

You take your time slipping through the racks, moving closer and closer to the changing room before tucking yourself inside of it. Frantically removing your hat, hair falling down to your mid back, and thanks to it no one would suspect you of having long hair. Yanking down the zipper of your sweatshirt and pulling it off, the neutral t-shirt would let you blend in easier, it was darker than your white sweatshirt and they'd be looking for white rather than gray. 

Stepping out you could see the person waiting outside the door and cringed, they were going to stop you at the door. A number of people would make it difficult without causing a scene, they were going to use the crowd against you.

Stepping up to the small rack of sunglasses you pulled off the largest pair they had and stepped up to the counter. Pulling out your wallet to pay for the shades.

"Could I uh, get a bag?"

"Of course." The cashier replies with a smile, and you quickly hand over the money.

"Uhm," You start awkwardly, and the cashier stops after handing you the receipt. "My ex is uh, standing outside. We had a pretty bad falling out." You bit your lip, "Is there.. a back entrance I could take? I don't, I don't wanna start anything and I don't really want to get the cops involved a second time-"

"Yes, sure. Of course."

He steps around the counter and leads you to the back. Meanwhile shoving your sweatshirt and hat into the bag and pulling the shades onto your face. You follow him to a back door that leads to the alleyway where the dumpsters are and he unlocks the door and holds it up for you.

"If he or uh anyone comes in looking for me.. could you say you didn't see me?"

"Absolutely." The cashier replies with a smile before shutting the door behind him.

The smile drops from your face and you toss the bag with your sweatshirt and hat into the open dumpster before immediately moving to the sidewalk to blend back in with the crowd. Pulling a thing of gum from your pocket you easily slide up to someone as you pop the mint stick into your mouth and begin chewing.

"Want some gum?"

* * *

"Are you sure she's still in there?"

"Positive, no one's come out."

"Go inside, ask the cashier." Natasha demands, standing up from her seat across the way. Gut telling her you were no longer inside, if you had gone in at all.

Pietro shifts off the side of the building and the door chimes overhead as he steps in. The person behind the cashier counter greeting them with a big hello, and a sweep across the room tells him that you're either in the dressing room or worse, not in the store at all anymore.

"Uh," He starts, smiling awkwardly at the man behind the counter before removing a photo of you. "Have you seen this girl in here?"

The man takes the photo and squints at it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "I've seen a lot of people come in today, haven't seen her, though. Is she missing?"

"Yeah." He ground out, almost crushing the photo he had of you with irritation. Turning away from the cashier with a ground out 'thanks' before putting his hand to the earpiece and slamming the door back open.

"She's not in there."

"What?" Steve's incredulous reply comes.

"Not in there. I could have sworn I saw her go in there." He can feel the irritation sweep into his bones. 

"Looks like she was faster than you, kid." Clint says over the ear piece and annoyance immediately marks Pietro's face as he places one hand on his hip.

"Funny-"

"Enough." Natasha says, walking up with Wanda to Pietro's side.

"It's likely she did go in or gave you the slip out the back. Not your fault. Did anyone see someone leaving the back entryway?"

"No one was watching it."

"Alright, what's the game plan here?" Tony calls, clearly irritated.

"She's likely going to leave the city. The country even."

"What are we gonna do, put the city on lockdown?" Sam replies sarcastically.

"She'll go underground if you try." Bucky finally speaks up, pressed against a wall as he looks at each person, blue eyes frantically searching the crowd.

"If she goes underground we'll never find her."

"Underground, underground?" Pietro questions, unsure.

"Can we make her face public, maybe we can get them involved. Make them stay away from her?" Sam supplies.

"Negative, if we start lighting her face up on screens not only is she going to immediately go underground but if there are any Hydra agents they'll immediately be aware of her location."

"There's still the heavy _if_ she's an ex-Hydra agent. Cap." Tony replies, looking down at his briefcase containing his suit.

"I'm out of ideas." Sam says, and Tony rolls his eyes before opening up the case. Startling several people around him as his suit immediately starts to cover him.

"I have an idea," He says as the helmet secures in place over his head. "We've already been found out, time to take this search to the skies. Sam, you're the only other one who can fly, we're going to take to the skies and start a visual search. Trace every single person for her. Wanda, I need you to get to higher ground, see if you can't pick up anything that may give her away, or locate her. The rest of you? Wait until we find her."

"Tony!" Rogers calls into the earpiece but it's too late, he can see the Iron Man suit rising above the building and lets out a heavy sigh looking down at the ground and shaking his head.

"She's going to think we're hunting her down." Bucky's quiet and strained voice comes up beside him and Steve looks over at him.

"I know."

* * *

"Look! Iron man!"

"Iron Man!"

You freeze in your spot with the rest of the crowd, the shades protecting you from the bright sun as you look up into the sky to see the red suit clashes against the bright blue sky.

"Falcon!"

Another glance tells you exactly what you don't want, and you bite down and immediately begin to move. _Fuck._ You think desperately if they were without the damnable suits you could take them on, but you couldn't fight a suit.

You would need to disable it, but that meant supplies you didn't have on hand. Buying more things with the cash that you didn't really have, and finding time to make it.

 _Make shift one, won't last but it could fry the system. Maybe._ You bit the inside of your cheek and move down the sidewalk, heading straight for the pawn store that several people had walked out of to admire the fact a celebrity was here.

The door chimes overhead and you're quick to slink through the shelves, picking up items on your way. Putting some back in place for others, your fingers are trembling and you're almost afraid you'll drop everything.

"I would like to buy these." You say awkwardly, setting all the things on the counter and beginning to take them apart as the cashier watches you with a weird expression. 

"Uh, that'll be-" You don't bother to listen, pulling the card out of your wallet and tossing it onto the counter.

_Found you._

You can feel your entire body go rigid, the person behind the counter is watching you anxiously as you jerk your head up and toward the door. Tossing caution to the wind and ripping the pieces down bit by bit.

"Uh, ma'am-"

"Shuttup." You snap, cold [color] eyes looking up at him and he immediately freezes and takes a step back. Hand inching toward the phone,

"Don't move, I'm not here to cause you trouble. I just-" You want to cry out in frustration but there isn't time, you keep your fingers moving. Pulling wires out and unraveling them, using your teeth to rip them apart and tie them together with the rest of your laid out invention.

It was a shabby attempt at best. You didn't even have time to fit it into something, and with the cashier ready to call the cops everyone was ready to put you back onto the grid. That you had struggled and fought so hard to come off of.

There's a burst of excitement outside, noise, and the door chimes open and you can hear the people. Their voices. It makes your head spin, makes it difficult to focus on your task, shaking hands, sweaty palms and you glance up at the cashier who looks more nervous than you do. 

You don't get time to test it, years of working in the field, years of pulling scraps together to make weapons. To make useful things out of scrap to aid yourself, you were sure it would give you at least a few seconds.

"[First Name] [Last Name]."

You swallow thickly, not looking away from what's in your hands. Staring at the severely chipped polish on your nails and you wait, every sense on edge. You can hear him breathing within the suit, hear the whir of mechanics with each movement. Hear the things align into place, click into place, you can hear the heavy and fast heartbeat of the cashier as he plasters himself to the wall.

_"Tony we're heading to your position right now, don't make any unnecessary actions."_

You can hear them through his own earpiece, you can hear his _thoughts_ as he scoffs at the direct orders of Rogers.

"[Name], we're not with Hydra. We're from the Avengers and we're here to help."

Lying, liar. He was going to turn you into the United Nations, and once they found out what you were capable of. What you could do, they wouldn't be any different from Hydra. They would experiment on you and it would be for the "greater good" that each and every head of power preaches about. You knew how it went, knew the same lines, the same routine, you would be _saving_ people with your abilities. _Changing the world_ , like Hydra always said. 

A step, your peripheral catches the movement and you move. Lightning quick and the device clicks on in your hand and sparks to life with an angry hiss and you slam it down onto the glowing arc reactor on his chest with a cry. His surprised expression meets your own hard ones, there's sweat dripping down your neck and a fierce snarl on your face. His suit convulses with the electricity coursing through it from the amplified taser, malfunctions his suit and fritzes Friday, her broken words barely making through the electric current that courses through his suit and straight to him.

"You can tell the United Nations to suck it." You snarl out, letting go of the device and you're hopping from one foot to the other, gaining momentum to hit the side of his face with a powerful roundhouse kick.

You see him moving but can't stop yourself, trying to take out Tony but the splash of their drink hits you first and throws off your momentum. Soaking you as you stumble away and shoot a seething glare at the cashier who's outstretched water bottle is now empty and dropped from trembling hands.

"L-Leave Iron Man al-alone!" He spits out, false bravado and you see red.

"Fanboy huh?" You're seeing red, slipping back into the years trained on the field. To the days when it was easier to just kill everyone than spare their lives. You were the first priority, the rest were just unnecessary weight.

"Sorry." You hear Tony say and snap your head over to him, wet strands slapping yourself in the face and you look at him as he holds your makeshift amplified taser and pressing it into the wet of your jean. "But not really."

It hurts like fire, burning through your veins and shocking every system. But you've felt worse, so much worse and it's what you use for the element of surprise, grabbing his head and slamming your head down into his with a cry.

The skin on both of you splits open, but yours heals a split second later while the impact makes him collapse. The helmet snapping back into place to protect him from further damage and you shoot the man behind the counter a seething look before hopping over Tony.

_"She's heading out, she's engaged in combat."_

_"What did you do?!"_

_"What did I do?! She started it!"_

You burst out the doors and everyone who had been watching gives you large berth, eyes wide and fearful. 

_"We see her!"_

Your heart pounds and it feels like everything slowing down as your jerk your head. Seeing everyone running toward you and you don't bother to think, survival kicks in and you make a run for it. The crowd separates to avoid you and you immediately jump into the middle of the road, backlogged in traffic and weave your way through the cars. _I need a vehicle, a car is too big._ And you spot it, attempting to weave its way toward you through the mass of cars, oblivious to the scene going on.

You hop onto the hood of one car, jumping from one to the other and something comes up beside you, immediately sweeping you up and off your feet. 

_"Pietro, no!"_

You can hear it through his earpiece and he's smiling widely at you but you immediately adjust yourself, one leg around his neck and swinging your body around so you both topple off the car and he hits the ground and you let go, hitting heavy on your feet and breaking back into your run.

The man on the bike finally seems to realize what's happened and abandons his bike, attempting to get away from you and the other Avengers that are gaining speed fast. The bike hits the ground with a heavy thunk and the second he's scrambling away you're already picking it off the ground and hopping on it, revving the engine. 

It skids off, leaving a trail of smoke behind you as you weave your way through the cars before splitting off into the proper lane and into traffic, several cars beeping at and swerving out of the way to avoid the collision.

"Sam don't attempt!" Rogers says over the earpiece, and there's a muffled confirmation over the winds as he speeds to keep up with your form. Tony walking out of the pawn store with a hand to his bleeding head, sending a disapproving look to Rogers as he stops in front of him.

"What happened?"

"I tried talking to her, she tasered me and my suit. Said and I quote "You can tell the United Nations to suck it." and then headbutt me." Steve looked at him, a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

"United Nations? How do they know about this?" 

"I uh, kind of told them."

"You _what_? How did she find out?" He's livid and Tony holds his hands up in mock surrender.

"That part I have no idea. Maybe she reads the news paper and automatically assumes United Nations are after her? We haven't exactly drawn a line at what we are and aren't doing here, Cap. Thanks to how long and difficult you're making this process."

"For Pete's sake, Tony! Now she's never going to trust us!"

"Look, we'll get her!"

"And now she really is an enemy of the United Nations! She's engaged in combat!"

"I can try-"

"No," Rogers cuts off, expression harsh. "You stay away from her, we'll handle this."

There's a surprised look on Tony's face which scrunches up in his own form of disbelief. "Are you grounding me?" 

"Buck." Steve is breathless and angry, "She thinks we're apart of the United Nations. Does she know you, remember you? Anything? Wanda?"

"I can't say for sure, I can't read her." Wanda supplies frustrated from her spot where she and her brother are on the side of the street.

"I'll engage." Bucky finally speaks quietly, and Steve can hear the rev of another motorcycle over the earpiece.

"Are you sure?" Steve asks, uncertain.

"No." Is the only answer he receives and Steve drops his hand away from his earpiece and looks over at Tony who gives him a smile and a shrug, while wiping away the blood from his forehead.

"That shit hurts."

* * *

Everything moves like it's in slow motion, _you_ feel like you're moving in slow motion. The sounds all feel far away from you, the loud thrum of your own engine feels distant, fuzzy. _Lose the bird._ Instinct and paranoia scream at you, and you glance back up. Hair splashing over your face as you see him above you, watching, but he's not making any move to come down. _Underground._ But the only underground was the subway, and you couldn't risk heading down there and not having a train ready to pull away. 

The revving of an engine breaks through the haze of thought and you toss a glance to the side, seeing a motorcycle pull up beside you, and your heart nearly stops in your chest as they glance at you.

"Bucky?" For a moment, you almost slam on the breaks and he opens his mouth to say something.

 _He's with the United Nations._ Your pulse quickens and your face hardens, looking away from him and twisting your wrist as the engine of your motorcycle. After everything you had done.. he still thinks you're the enemy.

 _That's fine, it's better if I'm the enemy rather than him. Isn't it?_ But there's a feeling deep in your gut that feels a lot like betrayal and it burns away the steel fire and replaces it with lava, makes you come alive, breathing the fire in and igniting every nerve in your body. Every sense comes alive and your face so twisted in a snarl melts away to the hard steel that lava melts it too.

You take a sharp right, cutting off several cars and forcing him to weave around them to avoid hitting them. Hitting the side walk and forcing screaming people to jump out of the way or be hit. 

_Stop!_

You can hear her familiar voice, so distant but so close and you glance to your left to see them. Focus dropping back into place as the world slows down, Pietro's form dodging the mass cars with his sister held tightly in his hands. Her eyes are as red as the aura that surrounds the two of them to keep them safe from the cars.

You slam on the breaks, skidding to a stop, the bike twisting to the left as you tear down an alleyway to avoid them. The revving of Bucky's own motorcycle following close behind you and a quick glance told you that the bird was still flying up and giving everyone a feed on your location. You needed to lose him to lose the others, or at least before Iron Man was back up in the sky.

Glancing up you see it, the parking garage in the distance. Parking garages usually had underground versions, you could lose them in there, or head up. Either way it would keep the bird from seeing your exact location. Slinking down up against the bike you speed out of the alleyway, avoiding cars that skid and collided with one another to prevent from hitting you.

The sounds of sirens and horns and screams left behind you, breathing in slowly as your focus snaps into place, drowning out all the other noise. 

A sharp right and you crash into the blockade that suddenly shoots up, your form sent flying over the bike and into the garage, hitting the ground with a heavy and sickening thud that echoes through the large space. Frantically grasping your bearings as you roll to a stop, breathing heavy and you can see Bucky right outside where you collided, immediately jumping off the bike. Panic floods your system and you pull yourself to your feet, the skid marks and open wounds from the crash immediately healing as you take off toward the stairs. 

You could go down, but it would lead to a dead end and trap you there, it wasn't like a subway that you could keep going. So with only decision left you skip two steps at a time, his heavy footsteps not far behind you. He stops to look up at the same time you glance down, your hair barely dry from whatever had happened within the pawn shop. Looking away from him you quickly keep heading up the stairs. 

_They're going to experiment on us!_ There's the desperate thought you wanted to avoid, the nagging inner voice that kept the fear in you alive. Kept it with a fast beating pulse that drove you up the steps and out onto the second to last floor to the top, enough to keep the bird off you. 

Running toward the other end you stopped and looked down at the ground, you could jump.

"[Name]!"

His voice makes you stop, one foot on the ledge and glance back. There's a strained look on his face but others are filing in, Steve is there and it only takes a split second before the twins are there too. All moving closer and you can feel your heart pounding loudly, and you almost don't hear Steve talking.

"We're not going to hurt you."

"бред сивой кобылы!" Your mother tongue comes out, and Steve looks at a loss of how to respond, not understanding and sends a helpless look to Bucky who hasn't taken his eyes off of you.

"Bucky," Steve whispers, helpless. 

"Почему ты бежишь?" Bucky says carefully, everyone's crouched as if they're ready to lunge at you and it only fuels your fear as they keep taking small steps toward you.

"Почему ты меня чеканка?!" You call back, your shoulders rigid and you're half crouched on the ledge when Steve immediately halts anyone from getting any closer.

"We want to help." Bucky speaks clearly, and you shoot him a look and glance at the others.

"I won't go back to that." You snarl out, fear evident on your face, the way your fingers tremble on the edge of the concrete you're half on and half off.

"Back to what?" Steve asks unsure, and Wanda's shaking her head reaching out to you.

"No, we won't let them test on you. We won't let them do what they did." Her eyes are red and you know she's looking in, seeing what makes you run and you nearly bare your teeth at her. Instinct tells you to jump.

A noise behind you makes you turn your head with wide eyes, and you can see the helmet of his suit pull back.

"Hi." Tony says and before Steve can even get out a 'no!' he's fired something that hits you hard enough you topple forward and back into the parking garage. It wraps around you like a spider grabbed onto its prey and then it hits. An electric shock that drills down into your very core until the world goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness! Over a 100 kudos' and oh my goodnessss I can't believe it you guys! Thank you so much! Here's an extra long chapter(I think??) because it felt a little wrong to split it up. 
> 
> To clarify some things, "reader" has roughly been on the run for at least 4 years, non-stop. Things like Tony's very obvious irritation and dislike, as well as some things that is going wrong with the reader will all be explained next chapter, as well as why you were running from beloved Bucky!! No worries.
> 
> For the translation bits   
> You: "Bullshit!"  
> Bucky: "Why are you running?"  
> You: "Why are you chasing me?!"
> 
> Special thanks to Phiredrops on tumblr for the tips to help me write up this chapter!! 
> 
> For everyone else: [my tumblr](http://awaitingjudgementx.tumblr.com/) shameful advert because I want more friends!!
> 
> PS. Pietro dying was lame, so he's alive. Yay.


	11. The Truth Catches up Eventually

"This doesn't feel right, Tony." Rogers says with his arms crossed and lips pursed, his blue gaze is focused intently on your restrained form. Bound down to a chair with an IV drip into your arm courtesy of one of the medical bay nurses.

"She's a Hydra agent who's been experimented on with the staff, the United Nations said we can keep her for the time being _if_ we keep her under control. This was the only option we had."

"Still doesn't feel right." He ignores the heavy exhale from his friend and watches your form, body leaning forward and head sagged down, your long hair keeping your face from view.

"I don't get why we even have to keep her here." Tony finally says after a moment, hands stuffed into his pockets as he turns to face Steve and throws you a glance. Besides restrained to the chair you were in the container used for Bruce when he got angry. A cage inside a cage due to your unknown skillset.

"She has potential information."

"No," Tony says and watches as Steve turns to him, eyebrows raised but the expression on his face is hard. "I think you just want answers from her about your boyfriend, you both do. I mean it's safer than having him remember, more convenient if you will." He says rubbing at his beard and taking a step away before turning back.

"Am I wrong?"

Steve looks away and runs a hand down his face, dealing with the Avengers, Tony, and the United Nations was becoming more and more difficult. They were blurring the line between good and bad more and more and it was beginning to feel like he was standing against a flood.

"I won't deny that she has information Bucky is looking for, but she could have a lot of information on Hydra whereabouts. We've taken a lot of them down but she may have information we have to finally put an end to them for good."

Tony doesn't say anything for a long time, turning away before he finally opens his mouth to speak. "I'll try to stall the United Nations as much as I can, but they want her on lockdown. The little stunt she pulled in Romania after what happened not long ago?"

"Yeah and who's fault was that?" Rogers bites, tone harsh that it surprises even Tony for a split second. He hadn't wanted to get the United Nations involved for this very reason, and not to mention Tony had disobeyed his orders and effectively made a person on the run feel _wanted_ by showing up in a suit of armor. It had spiraled out of control.

"You're blaming _me_ for how that turned out?" Tony says, taken aback but looking offended all the same.

"You have an _ex_ -Hydra agent on the run, and you decide to show up in your suit and expect her to come willingly?"

"Here we go with this _ex_ -Hydra again. Do you even know who she is beside the girl in Bucky's 'Nightmares'?" Tony bites back, using air quotes as he says nightmares for emphasis. "We're running blind here, Wanda and Pietro have seen her maybe a handful of times, barely interacted with her. Bucky has _nightmares_ , not just memories, flashbacks, no _nightmares_ of this girl and you're still willing to defend her. So I'm a little confused, I personally went in prepared for anything, and luckily I had my suit or she would have used that craftily modified taser on me. I personally don't wanna be fried."

Steve doesn't say anything, looking down at the ground. His friend is right in a lot of ways but his gut tells him that he's wrong, that there's something about you that is more than just a hydra agent. 

"I can't say you're not wrong Tony," He finally looks up at him and Tony can see the look on his face and lets out an exaggerated sigh. "But my gut tells me that you are, and I'm going to trust my gut."

"Over me?" Tony asks and his answer is a heavy nod that feels similar to a punch to the gut. "You have three days before the United Nations get her, get your information about your boyfriend in the meantime."

Steve doesn't say anything or call after his friend as he leaves the room, and turns on his heel to look at your unconscious form.

"I hope I'm right."

* * *

_"Do you love them?"_

_The question comes out of the blue and you pause what you're doing to glance over his form laying on the ground, one arm over his face._

_"Love who?"_

_"The person you're trying to protect." His arm drops to the side, soaked in sweat and still heaving from the training. It was one of the few things you could do undisturbed together, and one of the few times that you could talk undisturbed._

_"Up, get back to it." You say and he sends you a long withered look before picking himself back up and moving to the punching back that you sat several feet away from, stretching._

_"You haven't answered." He doesn't send you a look but keeps his eyes focused on the sandbag._

_Your heart aches, and you press yourself forward, stretching out your legs and touching your hand to your toes from your spot on the floor. Hair draping over the side of your face and covering the way your expression twists._

_"I don't know." You finally reply, the pounding of the sandbag echoes._

_"I think you do." There's one last hit to the sandbag before he catches it, steadying it to turn and look at you. His face is strained and once you lift your head up to look at him his blue eyes look away, look away from the smile that never quite reaches your eyes. The same eyes that haunt his nights because no matter what he does, he can't seem to chase it away._

_"Stretch." You command, and he sends you another irritated look before sitting himself down and stretching out. He doesn't notice that glance you send to the camera, doesn't realize it's all to keep him moving. Keep it from looking like an actual conversation._

_"Do they know how you feel?"_

_You want to laugh at his questions, he was so curious this time around, it warmed your heart._

_You had to make sure, though, that every reply you did was in between stretches, with your arms or hair blocking your lips from moving. They couldn't know, couldn't let them see you holding a conversation with him. You were his handler, nothing more._

_"..No." Comes back your quiet whisper and he sends you a strange look, eyebrows furrowed and his expression becomes strained._

_"Why not?" He asks, clearly confused._

_"You're awfully talkative this time around." It slips past your lips before you can stop yourself, the amusement is drained from your face and his expression becomes serious._

_"What?"_

_Your pained expression brings a feeling of panic within his chest, blooming from the center and spreading to every nerve in his body. An instinct to demand _why_ threatens to rise and confusion sets in because it's such an instinctual response and he can never figure out _why_._

_"I can't make them happy." His eyes snap toward yours and the panic seeps into his bones, he nearly rises to his feet but he doesn't want to tower over your form. He does that too often when he's not himself and each time he's struggling to not look at the bruises that heal around your neck, the way you try to reassure him it's alright._

_"How do you know?"_

_You don't say anything, the pained expression never leaves your face as you pull yourself to your feet and begin to leave the training room. He flounders to figure out why he's always asking _why_._

_"I think you could." He finally says and you glance back at him, there's surprise and horror in your face. There's tears in your eyes and he fears he's saying all the wrong things and he purses his lips, eyes flicking away from you, expression strained._

_"Make them happy, I mean."_

_He doesn't expect the sting in his chest when you look away from him, the pain that replaces it when he hears the tremble in your voice that match your trembling hands. That he always somehow knows to look for when he can't read your face, he can read your hands._

_"Go grab dinner." It's strained, attempting to be dismissive and then you disappear out the door without another word. He follows after but by the time he hits the exit you've already disappeared._

_He doesn't see you hiding behind the crates, doesn't see the tears that drip down your face. Doesn't hear you as you tell yourself to pull it together._

_"Keep it together, [Name]." You tell yourself, taking a shuddering breath but the emotion overwhelms you and you allow the tears to fall freely. Hidden in the shadow of the crates down a dead end, you bury your head in your hands and allow yourself to cry._

The world comes back in slow focus, it's like swimming through water and unable to surface. Everything sounds fuzzy and it's difficult to think, it almost feels difficult to breathe and your memories are spaced, difficult to recall. It's exhausting to even be awake as you are, barely clinging to the waking world and it takes great effort to even peel open your eyes.

Each breath feels labored, long, heavy makes you tired just for performing such a basic function. You swallow down and your mouth is dry, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. 

_What?_

It takes a great amount of effort to open your eyes and the simple action almost leaves you exhausted, your body aches and it takes a couple minutes before you realize why. Slouched forward, your limbs are incredibly stiff but there's not enough energy in you to do much else but keep your eyes open.

Your body doesn't respond like it should, your peripheral catches your hand and even after concentrating the only thing you manage to move is your pinky. It twitches in response and you're not sure whether to be relieved or horrified that you can barely control the body that's regenerated and kept you alive all this time.

The horrified panic sets in, triggering the adrenaline rush that helps pump the oxygen to your body. It takes longer than it should but the submerged feeling pulls back if only slightly, and your slow breathing becomes shallow and fast. Using the burst of energy you jerk your arm to get yourself moving, but your heart nearly skips a beat when you realize it's bound to a chair.

It floods your system and washes out the underwater feeling and your heart beats rapidly. Pulling you out of the underwater feeling and into the surface your head jerks up with sudden energy and you snap your eyes over to the IV in your arm and you can feel yourself panicking more. 

_Oh God, how long was I out?_

You tug at the bond holding your arms and legs down, there's a beeping somewhere behind you that's as erratic as your heartbeat is but the sound is drowned out at your racing thoughts.

_What have they done to me?_

Did they experiment on you? Leave you drugged up in some sort of humane way so it wouldn't hurt, did they remove any limbs? Did they take any organs? You feel like you're going to be sick and a desperate need to get the IV out of your arm overcomes everything else. 

The bonds don't give an inch no matter how much you heave, and you're terrified that whatever they're pumping into you will kick in again, will knock you out and they'll continue to drug you up and do what they want. It's that fear that keeps you awake, keeps you going, the paranoia that's become your best friend when no one else would.

With another jerk against the bonds the chair, you're on squeaks as it moves forward and it only takes a quick moment before you've realized that they hadn't bothered to bolt the chair down. Throwing all your weight to the side closest to the IV stand, the chair tilts, and it takes a couple more tries before the chair tips over and crashes into the IV stand. Toppling over with a loud crash, there's something else that yanks at your other hand and the beeping in the background flatlines but you pay it no mind. Staring at the IV tube inches away from your face and wiggling the chair forward, your teeth latch around the tube and you pull as much as you can.

The tug at your skin tells you there's too much slack so you throw your weight down, jerking the chair down a fraction, it screeches against the floor and with a second try you've got enough of the slack away that when you jerk your head back, tube between your teeth that it pulls against the tape and skin. Wiggling down further to get rid of more of the slack until you can feel the tear of your skin as the tape gives way and the needle in your arm tears at the skin. It takes another jerk back before it's free from your arm, a bit of blood following it.

_Straps, get the straps off._

Instinct is screaming, with the IV out of your arm it only takes a minute before the effects are wiped from your body and-

_"Flat-lined-"_

_"Quick-"_

Fear tears through your body as your focus snaps into place with the drugs filtered out of your system and you know they're coming. Ripping your hand and feet against the bonds, the skin beneath getting irritated and healing up each time. 

"Shit, fuck."

Your heart pounds and you jerk rapidly and hard against the bonds and you can hear the tight Velcro giving way bit by bit. But your focus snaps again and you pause, heavy footsteps coming closer and your efforts return even harder than before.

The first Velcro on your right hand gives way as commotion enters the room, there's orders being barked and you fear ignites even more than before. Your free hand tearing against the remaining bonds tying you to the chair.

"Open the door!"

There's a shout and you ignore it in favor of removing the band around your torso.

"Quick!"

They're as desperate as you are, you free your torso and move down to your feet and the door slides open just as you free the last restraint. It's only a split second and you've grabbed the needle from the floor as your only weapon and turn to face them. Their hands are up in surrender the second you turn to them, crouched down and ready to fight your way out. Chest heaving with each breath as you take them all in, several nurses, Captain America, Bucky and-

You blink rapidly for a moment, why was the new King of Wakanda here?

"We don't want to hurt you." He says his hands up and face calm, Steve looks ready for a fight, as does Bucky and it's a stab to your chest at his willingness.

"The feeling isn't mutual." You breathe out, adjusting the needle in your hand.

"Do you really plan to take us on with a bent needle?" He challenges, attempting to cow you into surrender but you only tighten your grip on it, your toes curl and your free hand is outstretched, ready to block an attack should it come.

"I've taken down far more with a lot less." You bite back and he raises his eyebrows for a brief moment and you question it only for a half second.

"We're not going to hurt you." Captain America says, and your brain supplies America with a few choice names, landing on Captain piss off.

"Really? You drug and tie me to a chair and I'm supposed to believe you?" There's the rage boiling under your skin, breathing life into you.

"That wasn't my idea, I didn't want to do it."

"But you did."

"I didn't have a choice, it was either that or let the United Nations have you."

"I'd prefer them if they didn't _drug me_!"

His face strains at your words, his shield is in his hand but his posture relaxes slightly and he runs a hand through his hair.

"It's difficult, but please we want to help you."

You bare your teeth and snarl at them, "I never asked for your help."

"What are afraid will happen to you?" T'Challa finally asks, his hands no longer up but at a parade rest as he stands, controlled, dignified, an iron wall between you and the exit and he knows it. But you don't respond to him, your eyes flick back to the two still ready to start a fight and it takes a moment before T'Challa turns his head to look at the two from his peripheral.

"Would you mind giving us some privacy?"

Steve looks surprised, "T'Ch-"

"Your presence is an obvious eyesore for her, whatever information you are seeking she is not going to give to you upfront."

Steve's face hardens and he straightens up, it takes a moment before he nods his head, backing out of the room with Bucky close behind him. Bucky's eyes land on you and for a second you see the concern on his features, but it's lost behind Steve rogers and the door shuts behind him.

You can see them outside the glass container, waiting, watching for you to spring into action but even as your gaze flicks to T'Challa he doesn't move from his spot.

"I won't attack, you may sit if you like."

"Forgive me but I'd rather not."

He nods his head once in understanding and you slowly pick yourself up from the crouched position you had yourself in. The needle doesn't leave your hand but standing allows you to stretch out the stiffness in your muscles and roll your shoulders.

"My friends have many questions for you," He starts after a long pregnant pause.

"So do a lot of people." You fire back and he doesn't get angry at the harshness in your tone. 

"The United Nations wants answers, specific ones. Many believe after what happened in Romania that you are a bad person, the media has made you out to be one. Chased by the Avengers and put into their custody."

You bite your lip, you didn't realize the media blow up. How could you? Locked up in here, of course, it would have happened. But where does that leave you? Your face is up on the screens, known to everybody when you had tried so hard to stay off the grid.

_What are we going to do?_

Panic begins to fill you again and your hands are beginning to tremble, curling into fists to keep yourself strong.

"Many see you as a public enemy, the United Nations wants to see you as a core member of Hydra."

Your heart pounds heavily in your chest and it almost makes you dizzy for a moment. 

"However," He pauses and you look at him warily, he hasn't moved from his spot but neither have you. "It has taken a great deal of grief on my part, and others to realize that Hydra has many victims. My father was lost to a staged attack, Captain Roger's friend, was a victim to them for many, many years."

You swallow hard, your hand around the needle is a crushing grip and you shift your feet slightly, ready to attack. 

"The United Nations don't care, but I do. If you can prove to me that you are innocent I will keep them from taking you."

The shock clearly shows on your face, the grip on your needle slacks and he seems to have expected the response but he smiles softly none the less.

"Hydra has caused many griefs, Rogers, Buchanan, and I. It does not escape my notice that the United Nations does not care whether you are innocent of it or not, but I won't let a good person go to prison."

 _I'm not a good person._ The thought sobers you up and you hold the needle again in a tight grip.

"How can I trust you?" You can't, you know you can't.

"I can only give my word as King of Wakanda." He moves and you flinch, ready to attack but again are surprised when his hand moves over his heart and he gives a small but brief bow.

"I don't believe you." 

"Either way my friend, the United Nations are on their way here. You will have to answer things eventually, the only question is. What stakes would you like to play with? The United Nations, who are going to lock you up regardless, or the slim chance that I may be telling the truth."

He's right, the United Nations would lock you up and once they found out, they'd torture you like Hydra did. Even if you managed to escape this place, wherever it was, somehow your face was all over now, you'd never make it. If the King of Wakanda was offering the slim chance, you'd have to take it.

Your stance goes lax but you don't drop the needle, years of training and assassinations have told you never to discard your weapon, even when you think you're safe.

"What do you want to know?"

His smile is genuine, but your hard and weary expression doesn't go away.

"Let's start with the basics? What is your name?"

"[Name] [Last Name]."

"How long were you a member of Hydra?"

"I don't remember."

"Did they wipe your memory as well?" His eyes narrow but you briefly shake your head, the needle rolls in your hand.

"No, they can't."

"They can't?"

"Their ways of making you forget is by damaging parts of the brain, my regeneration kept that from happening."

He seems to consider your words for a moment and nods.

"You don't remember how long you were with them, though?"

You shake your head briefly, eyes glancing to Bucky and Steve as they stand outside the glass prison, listening in. T'Challa takes notice and turns a fraction at the waist to follow your gaze onto them, onto Bucky, who's staring at you with a hard expression. Steve is talking but you can't hear it, not unless you focus.

"Mr. Buchanan says he has nightmares of you."

You flinch, hard, the statement is like a punch to the gut and nobody misses it.

"W-What?" You breathe out, hoping you had heard wrong. Did he think of you as a part of Hydra? As a part of the people who kept them there? When everything you did..

"Nightmares plague him every night, he's known to frequently awake screaming, from you."

You feel like you're going to hyperventilate, there's a panic and overwhelming _pain_ in your chest. Did Bucky really think so badly of you? Did his memories really mess everything up that he now thinks of you as a part of Hydra, a piece that anchors him to the bad memories of his past? You haunt his dreams in the worst way and it almost makes you physically sick.

 _Everything I did!_ There's despair on your face and T'Challa waits for you to face him again before continuing.

"Why?"

Betrayal follows the onslaught of pain, the tears in your eyes burn with rage. Everything you had done, the amount of torture sessions you had endured for _him_ and he thinks of you nothing more than a Hydra agent. He wasn't remembering anything, and if you were going to be his anchor to his past, one that he needed to overcome then so be it.

"I was his handler." Your voice steadies slowly, not looking at Bucky as he goes rigid.

"His handler?" T'Challa echoes.

"They were afraid if he ever had.. outbursts that they wouldn't be able to stop him. So they assigned me."

"Why?"

"Because even if he tried to kill me, he couldn't."

Bucky flinches, hard, a pounding in his head and immediately he raises his hand to his head. 

_"I've told you before, you can't kill me."_

"Buck," Concern in Steve's tone, "Maybe you should wait outside-"

"No." His face is hard as he stands straight, his chest aches at the sight of you. So haggard and tired looking with bags under your eyes, like the nights never left you alone and neither did the days. He had managed to find himself a small place after fleeing when you had let him go, but you? He hadn't thought of what would happen to you, and there's a gut-wrenching despair that he can't put his fingers on, and a desire to throw himself in front of you and _protect_ you. You were so skinny, and sickly so, pale, and if it weren't for your body that kept you alive you would have probably been found dead on the streets.

The thought is like driving a knife into his chest, and he can't hide the expression of pain that hits him. Steve is looking at him with worry, he knows it, but he can't look away from you. Despite it all, you were simply _breathtaking_ in a way he couldn't describe, ready to fight it all for yourself rather than lay down and accept it. An inner strength that was stronger than anything.

You watch the expression on his face before dragging your attention back to T'Challa.

"We all have nightmares." You finally say, quietly. Willing the steel fibers to coat your skin, made you strong enough to last this because you weren't a good person. He wasn't going to save you, he was going to get his answers and realize, and you would be left with nothing but the option to fight your way out.

"But you have no idea why he would have them of _you_?" You know what he's asking, what did you do to Bucky and it hurts, but it's a dull ache compared to the stab as you pull yourself together.

"No." You say honestly, you had done everything you could for him. Any failures on his part you had accepted as your own and took the punishment instead, you endured so much for him, and there's a bitterness in your chest that he doesn't remember one kind thing from you.

"Mr. Stark says he can't find any record of you. We assume Hydra would have covered their tracks, but unfortunately, he says there's no record of you. Period." His hands fold behind him. "No birth certificate, no death certificate, not even a missing search."

"Of course not," You answer smoothly, unthinking. "Birth certificates weren't invented until the.. late 1800s?" 

There's a startled expression on his face and you realize your fuck up too late.

"How old are you?" He commands, and you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood, and it heals right away.

"I don't remember."

"Let me rephrase this, when were you born?"

You watch him carefully, the needle tightening in your hand. You hadn't meant to fuck up- you had been so careful. Why? _Why?_

It takes you a moment, your face is hard and it matches the expression with T'Challa.

"1721."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah, this took a lot longer to get up than I had hoped but I had a lot of difficulties of where I wanted to go with it. But here we are! The next chapter will be the ultimate reveal about "you" so be prepared, get the popcorn ready!
> 
> Also, wanna give a big thanks to everyone who's left so many kind words to me about this story. I always struggle to like my writing and to get those comments and personal messages about how much you like this story means _so, so_ much to me. I'm forever grateful for them, they really mean a lot to me. ♥
> 
> PS. There's also a very legitimate reason you have for such a giant uh, 'fuck up'.


	12. Couldn't Get Away

There's disbelief on their faces and yours is hard set, the hand holding the needle tightens and you await the inevitable onslaught of questions. Eyes flicking over to the two behind the glass case and you wish you hadn't, pain blooms in your chest, a physical ache when you look at him.

 _I'm the one that tortures him now._ But there's a bitterness that follows after the pain, a betrayal so raw it makes the fire in your veins come alive, breathes life back into you and cools you over.

"That would make you.. two hundred and ninety-five years old." T'Challa speaks, disbelief in his voice and on his face as he looks at you and in response you shrug your shoulders, not looking away from him. There's a paranoia building in the back of your head, whispering over your shoulder.

 _They shouldn't know._ It whispers and the hand around the needle tightens as your jaw clenches.

"How is that possible? Was it Hydra's doing?" It's a demand to know and your heart begins to thump loudly in your chest, making your hands shake.

 _No one is supposed to know._ You knew what happened when people in position found out. What they'd do to you, what lengths people would go to get it.

"No," You say after a moment, trying to gather your thoughts but the anxiety is making you fidgety, making you want to run. Exhaustion is in your bones but it's covered up by the fear that pumps into your system. "Hydra wanted to know, though, too."

T'Challa's face is hard, eyes watching you carefully. "I am not Hydra, _we_ are not Hydra."

That's what they always said, you knew the lines, knew the games that they played. Lives were so fleeting and they always tossed them away, _for the greater good_ they said. _For a better future._ They preached, and when they got a hold of you, it was _we can save people, we can change the world._ But why with you? Why did it always have to start with you? Every project Hydra had started with you, every experiment, every design. You were the first step and the heart of everything they did.

 _I'm not a good person._ Your thoughts break through and there's desperation in you, you weren't a good person, you were the beating heart of Hydra's tests, the reason they had gotten so far. He wouldn't save you, he wouldn't keep anyone from taking you once he found out. 

Your throat feels tight and it's difficult to breathe, to keep the oxygen in and prevent your shoulders from heaving. You didn't want to be another experiment, another subject.

"[Name]." You snap your head up and glance at T'Challa and the other two watching at you with wide eyes but a hard underlining expression. You swallow thickly before giving him an even look. "You don't have to be a part of Hydra, to be like them." There were people like those who experimented on you out there, Hydra recruited the like mind, but you weren't born into Hydra, you were accepted by them.

His expression is hard and for a brief moment you think he's going to attack you, focus snapping into place and it's like the world slows down. His heartbeat, their heartbeats, your own pounding in your ears, but he simply breathes out a heavy sigh.

_To push it will start a fight._

The filter fades away as your focus breaks and he's adjusted himself.

"May we continue?" He's asking politely, but you steel your expression and bare your teeth. The paranoia and betrayal breathe fire into your veins, and you spit it out at him with your vicious tone.

"No."

He seems taken back and there's a brief feeling of smugness at it before it disappears. To become smug or egotistical in this situation would surely hand you over to the United Nations sooner.

"Why?" He asks, quietly, face hard.

"I am not a kind person," It hurts to say, like a punch to the gut and despair fills you, drenching out the fire and your voice becomes strained as you cling to the remains of the flames. "I will tell you and you will hand me over to the United Nations, why should I tell you any more?"

"You have told me nothing as of yet to prove you are guilty. I will be the judge of that, not yourself. Besides, we can do this easily or the United Nations can do it their way. Either way, you're soon to give the information out."

You want to scream, but there's not enough energy to muster up the action and so you breathe out your own sigh.

"Fine." You bite out and he nods his head once, almost like a thank you but your hand only holds the needle tighter.

"How and when did you stop aging?"

You hadn't thought about it in a long time, didn't like to. It really was a lifetime ago, a life you no longer had, no longer were a part of. Your own history felt strange to you and it was like recounting someone else's story and not your own. A strange and uncomfortable type of detachment to the memories, to your family. 

Maybe at one point they weighed you down, but that was a long, long time ago.

"I don't know how," You say slowly. No one did, Hydra didn't know how so why would you? You were _gifted_ with it, you didn't create it. "I died once, and kept aging. I died a second time and after that, I stopped aging." There's nothing else to say about it, there was no secret to it, one day you just died and woke up and stopped aging.

"You were born in 1721?" It's the invitation to talk about your life, you know it is. It's a strange and bitter sensation, a story that doesn't feel like your own, not anymore. The person you were then isn't the person you were today, you didn't even look into the same mirror.

"You want the whole life story?" You bite out, flipping the needle over in your hand so you're able to cross your hands over your chest.

"I assume you had to have come across Hydra at some point?" There's no anger or inflation to his tone, a simple statement that has a point to it. 

"Fine," Your fingers twitch against your arm and you spare another glance at the two who are watching you with solemn expressions. It makes your gut twist, makes you bitter. Your mouth opens and closes once, biting down on your lower lip.

Where did you even begin? When Hydra had found you and passed you down like a Rite, you never spoke, never had needed to because they did all for you. Your life was theirs to do as they pleased with, and to have them talk about you like an object, to know so much about you, wasn't unusual. But to talk about it for the first time? 

"I," You struggle to form the words, unsure of how to say them. You were weaving a story that no longer felt like your own, it felt weird to talk about it and say it was _yours_. What had ever been yours? "I was born to a farmer family in Russia, a poor one. I don't- I don't know when or how old but no more than ten is when I was sold off to a noble family to become a servant. I was a girl so I couldn't take over their farm, and they needed the money so the best option was to sell me."

Maybe that document was the only thing that had ever been proof of your existence. With your name on it in full, the only real piece of history that you had ever been alive. Even Hydra never referred to you with your name, everything in their files was code names to make sure no one ever found out about you.

You never existed in the first place.

"I was raised by the other servants in their household, taught all the bells and whistles of how the place ran. I learned to cook, I washed the laundry, cleaned the house, scrubbed the floors." It was the classic Cinderella tale. "It wasn't until I was.. fourteen? that the head of the house, took an _interest_ in me."

You could see the looks of disgust on their face, but the thought didn't phase you anymore. It wasn't you, whoever that had been was long gone, changed a thousand times over with each death.

"He tried to force himself on me and I resisted, I was scared. I didn't want to and in his fit of anger at my resistance, he stabbed me." The phantom pain wasn't there anymore, not like it had haunted you for years after. "My body was disposed of in the middle of the night, tossed in some field and left to rot, or be eaten. Whatever came first I suppose." You shrugged once, you didn't look at their faces because you didn't want their sympathy, you didn't sympathize with yourself.

"I woke up in the middle of the night, my wound gone and very confused. The shock of what happened prevented me from remembering, too much stress the first time. I found my way back to the house because where else was I to go? And I didn't understand why he was so horrified, why he thought he had seen a ghost.

It wasn't until he accused me of being a witch and the devil, saying that I had tempted him into trying to bed me. It was a cover for his wife, who had been told of his act by the other servants, and unfortunately back from the dead didn't give me much room to protest their accusations. I was scared of them."

You paused for a moment, lost in the memory.

"I was scared of myself." You were, you had been. Terrified when they had said they had killed you and that you were back. It made sense, the blood on your gown, the phantom pain at the time. "I ran but there was rumor of me, of what I looked like going around and no one would help me out. I was chased out of the only town I knew and forced to the next one.

I lived like that for awhile, no one wanted to help a woman who hadn't a family. You were no better than the dirt beneath their nails and so I resorted to stealing, I needed food- Well I thought I needed food at the time." It's a bitter laugh remembering the feeling that you were going to starve, that you would actually _die_ from it, almost laughable really.

"I eventually found a few others like me, discarded by family. By then no one knew who I was, they didn't the people in the new town didn't. We stayed with each other, stealing and foraging for food. The group, we all built a small shack and lived there. I stayed there for.." You take a deep breath to try and think. "Another fourteen years? It wasn't glorious, it wasn't much but what did we have?" 

"I got caught stealing from a noble, though, and for my crime they wanted me hung. I tried to fight, tried to get them to help. After all weren't we supposed to stick through everything thick and thin? I thought.." You trail off for a moment, remembering their faces, blurry as it is. "I thought we would stay together but when I was to be hung, they were all there but wouldn't, and left me there." There's a hollow empty feeling in your chest, the man you had thought you loved as he shook his head and disappeared into the crowd. His unwillingness to help you had hit deep at the time because you knew your past self would have tried to help him.

"They hung me in front of everyone, and that was the second time I died." It felt weird to say it, foreign because you never really _died_. "When they came to retrieve my body in the morning and cut the rope holding me up, my neck snapped back into place and I woke up.

People thought I had some association with the devil, and for the second time, I was chased out of the town as far as my feet could go. That's also when I learned that starving myself to death didn't work, neither did refusing to get anything to drink. Nothing I did would kill me off, and I spent.. decades wandering around trying to figure out why couldn't I die? I met people, great people, and some I watched succumb to sickness and some I watched grow old.

I was found out again years later, during the Russo-Turkish war, where I was killed again but this time, I was found out by.. a religious cult I guess you could say. They wanted to bring back their deity and they had hoped by some manner I had a connection with him. They were deluded into thinking that if they could kill me, it would bring this deity back. So they killed me, repeatedly. 

I tried to run, I tried so many times to escape but they always found me somehow. I never got far enough, and always taken back and each time I ran they would find some way to make everything hurt more. I eventually gave up, it was easier not to struggle and to just do as you were told."

_I'm not a good person._

"I killed people because I was told to, to spare myself of being killed again and again. When they realized that their deity wasn't coming back they let up, but they refused to let me go. It wasn't until.. Adolf Hitler that they were united under a different name. Hydra."

You shift from one leg to the other, it still feels foreign to talk about.

"Their experiments returned when Johann Schmidt learned of my abilities and used me for his experiments. The super soldier serum that he was so desperate for worked and didn't, it wouldn't work on me because my ability flushed it out of my system. The negative effects outweighing the good, I suppose, and so my ability kept it from working on me. So he tested it on himself, instead."

That period of time was a blur, so much fighting, so much _experimentation_ on you, it was hard to make out how much time had passed because you spent most of it unconscious, unable to handle the pain.

"Captain America comes," You finally chime but your voice is mocking as you finally lift your head and look up at the two. "And Bucky Barnes, Howling Commando, official sniper." It's bitter to say his name, it hurts to say it but you continue forward.

"With things falling apart Armin Zola had them take me away, I did as I was told. It was a respite to just not have them experiment on me and I was afraid if I fled they would find me again. I didn't think.. that running would have maybe saved me, I didn't think I would ever escape. I had accepted my fate in Hydra." Your heart pounds and your palms feel sweaty. You were Hydra's core, how could you have thought of escape at that time?

"Armin Zola kept tabs at me, and at that time, he also had James Buchanan Barnes." You twist your torso to look at Bucky, your lips pursed and his face is strained, twisted, partially angry, the other you weren't so sure of.

"I was to be his handler, because if he ever lost control he couldn't kill me, couldn't stop me from putting him down." His face is twisted in pain and you look back to T'Challa, there's a bitter relief in it, you were his nightmare after all, weren't you?

"That's when they gave me more leniency, I was allowed out more because I needed to be by his side. It was then.. that I saw the world, saw that there was a chance to escape. It took awhile." You refused to bring up why it had taken so long, there were so many times you could have simply left Bucky to Hydra but even knowing you were his nightmare, the thought of leaving him was like ripping a hole through your chest.

You couldn't do it, not even now.

"Eventually after years and years of trying to plan my escape I was given the opportunity when Captain America was brought forth from the ice, back into the world. An eyesore for Hydra, one they wanted to eliminate before he became another problem to them all over again. 

But Alexander Pierce underestimated the people beneath him, and I used that to my advantage. With the chaos going on and SHIELD finding out they had Hydra operatives within them since the beginning of the foundation it uprooted a lot of things. I used the chaos to my advantage and fled when I could."

T'Challa is staring at you and you swallow hard, unsure of what to say, where to go. What did you say now? You didn't even want to say anything, honestly.

"What did you save Buchanan?"

Your steel your expression, you had known someone would ask the second you began to weave your life story. 

"Pity," You bite out and it hurts. "He was in the same situation, so I figured why not get him out as well."

T'Challa takes a moment to process it, and you don't dare look over at the two who are watching you. Fear makes your heart pound, makes you want to run, to bolt. _I'm not a good person._ You knew he wasn't going to take you in, give you refugee from another organization willing to abuse their power _for the greater good._

"Have you ever stopped running?" It's a question that takes you by surprise and it shows on your face for a brief moment.

"No." It's a hard thought, to know you've never had a _home_ to call your own. Nothing was ever yours, you didn't exist in the records and ghosts didn't have things. Hydra's beating core and toy didn't get to have things.

It's quiet for awhile, lost in your own thoughts, to the memories you hadn't thought of in two lifetimes. It's only when the loud speaker comes on that your heart begins to race, that panic floods your system and fear and paranoia begin to whisper.

"The United Nation delegate is here if you're done with your story time they'd like to have a word." It's Stark's voice, and T'Challa stares at you for a long moment.

"Let them come." Another hot wave of pain washes over you, the hope you had clung to so desperately swallowed up by despair. 

_I was never innocent._ The thought echoes into your skull and you watch as he looks back at you and his face his hard, but difficult 

"You have been on the run for a long, long time, but none of it was your fault." 

He's lying, liar. Just like Stark was.

"If you do not run, I will let you out." Your heart is pounding and there's a smile on his face. "I will protect you."

You aren't sure what to think, aren't sure what to _feel_. There's a sudden hope in your chest but it's crushed by a deafening despair.

_We're nothing but another object to another person._

"Okay." Your voice is quiet, and the needle drops from your hands. Fear still running through trembling fingers and you aren't sure which is better. He was giving you his word, but you didn't know of any generosity that didn't come with ulterior motives.

You'd just have to see how long it'd take before you wore out your welcome. You only had an eternity to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada, most of "reader"'s past has been revealed. There's small snippets like your encounter with the twins that was glossed over for the bigger picture of things. But that'll eventually be revealed in time as well! Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, to go onto the next part in the same chap felt a bit awkward.
> 
> I hope this was a good chapter? And I want to give everyone a big hug because some of you have left the _kindest_ reviews and it totally made my day. So I hope this chapter lives up to it. Next, we'll be seeing what happens when the United Nation's finds out T'Challa has no plans to hand you over. Explosions, madness, screaming, so on and so forth.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again, everyone, you really inspire me to keep this going and I can't thank you enough for not only taking the time, but to leave a kudos and even comment. Means a lot. ♥♥


	13. I don't need your love

He gestures you forward and your arms drop to your side, hands clenching to hide trembling fingers. Your heartbeat feels so heavy, so loud in your ears and there's an anxiety building in your bones with each step you take over to him. The door opens and you are afraid to look at Captain America and Bucky, the anxiety swallows you whole and there's a brief moment when you step out of your glass prison that _flee_ enters your mind, almost makes you jerk forward. But your feet remain rooted to the ground and you sorely wish you hadn't thrown away your sweatshirt. Something you could stuff your hands in, pull the hood in and cover your face from everyone.

"[Name]." His voice is quiet, heavy, full of emotion that only Captain America would have for someone like you. You glance out of the corner of your eye unwilling to look at him directly.

"We won't let them take you, I promise."

Your heart thumps so loudly in your chest and your hands are fidgeting, dragging along your jeans and twitching in response. You're unsure what to say and as you look at the two of them you wish you hadn't, faces full of sympathy that you aren't asking for. But it's Bucky's face that hurts the most, the strained expression as he looks at you and then the startling realization that he still knew you because those blue eyes flick down to your twitching hands and you immediately still them.

"Come, the delegate is waiting." T'Challa says after a moment and Steve nods his head once, a look you could only describe as unbending determination crossing his features. When T'Challa moves forward you follow behind him, not wanting to be asked more questions.

Steve and Bucky flank you from behind, steel expressions as they follow the set pace. They can see your form, hunched shoulders, a posture that screamed you were trying to make yourself smaller, unnoticed and they weren't sure what experience caused it. The ingrained instinct to blend in and become unnoticed to your environment, or perhaps the tortuous experiments they performed on you.

The footsteps are heavy and you can't even hear your own, hands clasped in front of you, fingers intertwined as your gaze flickers back and forth through the hallway. T'Challa walks with a large stride, one of his steps means two of yours and his is full of confidence. Shoulders pulled back and head straight, he was going into this argument with every intention of winning. 

You weren't sure if that eased your worries or made them worse.

To say the delegate was displeased to see you unrestrained and unsedated was an understatement that set off the entire negotiations into a yelling frenzy. His bodyguards had guns aimed and Captain America pulled his shield up. It had become a chaotic mess in the span of only several minutes, but after the initial mistrust wore off and guns were lowered, then began the agonizing conference that you wished you could escape.

Running was in your blood, _escaping_ was in your blood. There was rarely a point in time when you felt that you weren't running from someone or something. Even under the watchful eye of Hydra, you were skirting around their direct attention, head down, hands lowered, running from the torture they would give you should you protest.

The field had been little different, people fled from you and you, in turn, fled from others. It was a type of tango you weren't sure was ever going to end. It made you _tired_ because the small part of you yearned to meet an end like everyone else did. To die would bring some semblance of _peace_ after all the years running, and more running, to finally run into the clutches of death you weren't sure if you could resist such a temptation.

You were awfully tired of running.

Your fingers twitched and your leg bounced on the ground as you sat at the table where the conference had moved. The delegates guards watched you more than anything else, they feared _you_ more than anything else. While you were dangerous there were men in here that could kill just as quick, if not quicker than you could and yet the prospect that death eluded you each time, gave them more fear than the men.

Each time you moved you could _hear_ the pause in their thought process, the way their fingers ghosted over the trigger of their guns and the way their muscles tensed. Ready for any type of combat only to relax seconds later when they were sure you weren't going to jump up from your seat.

"We absolutely refuse, if you attempt to take her under your protective custody you will be declaring _war_ against the United States."

It's been a back and forth, the United States had taken all claims and rights from you, and for an unfathomable reason were risking _war_ on your behalf. 

"Contrary to popular belief," The door slides open and in walks Tony, twirling a pen in his hands and looking at the delegate rather than his own companions. "The thing you are talking to is actually a _person_ , and I have yet to hear any of you ask what she wants."

The delegate clearly agitated at Tony's interruption pulls himself up into a standing position, an appearance to make himself bigger, more superior, but Tony is unfazed by the action.

"She is a _criminal_! They don't get rights!" He shouts back, hands pressed to the table as he rises to the challenge. A challenge that Tony seems to willingly accept.

"Really? Because I was certain that in order to have a criminal record you need to, you know, have a record first. As far as anyone's concerned, and I've done my research, [Name] simply doesn't exist. Therefore no record and no _criminal_ record."

"She's a part of Hydra!" The delegate fires back and Tony only waves the pen at the agitated delegate.

"See, we have no evidence of that, either. Word of the mouth, a word of the mouth that you actually found out from _me_ , which is why I'm here. I lied."

The delegate falters at Tony's admission, one that he gives with a smile.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah see, I lied. Got all you guys in a fuss, she's not a part of Hydra, there's no record. We've even swept Hydra records, something that you are familiar with and as far as any relevant information [Name] [Last Name] simply doesn't exist there either. You're effectively trying to pin crimes on her when there is no proof of one."

"You told us about this and now you're saying you lied?" Disbelief colors the delegates tone, face turning red in anger.

"I was bored." The nonchalant shrug and smile only furthers to anger the delegate and you watch as they flounder for words to respond with.

"You can't just take it back!" He finally manages to fire out.

"I just did."

"What about the incident in Romania?!" Finally grasping a straw, for something he can tie you down with.

"Training exercise gone wrong, you see [Name] is looking to be recruited into the Avengers, and we wanted to test her abilities. Outside her regenerative properties, of course. It, unfortunately, escalated out of control but thankfully no one was seriously injured." He gives another winning smile, one that says he's clearly got this in the bag. "And I've already paid for all the damages."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you lean back into your seat, mind spinning. The delegate's guards immediately twitching their guns in your direction, but you've paid it no mind as you stare at Tony, Steve, and the rest following in suit.

"So now that you have no ground to process this request, I'd say it's about time you left."

"Thaddeus Ross will hear about this, Tony!" There's a promise and a warning in his tone that you aren't sure you understand, but Tony seems about as nonchalant when he came in, in the face of such a threat.

"I'll put him on hold when he calls."

The delegate flounders for words, clearly at a loss before T'Challa rises to his feet. 

"I'll escort you out."

The room falls into silence as the delegate collects his things, face still beat red with anger or embarrassment you aren't sure of. An hour long negotiation ending in less than five minutes since Tony had entered. There's an indignant huff that the delegate gives as T'Challa escorts him out of the room and the door slides shut behind him.

"Tony, what-" Steve starts but Tony holds up a hand clearly not interested in answering the question.

"We've got maybe about an hour, maybe an hour and a half if I put him on hold."

"Hour for what?" Bucky finally asks, confused but his expression is hard. 

"I basically just gave up any credibility she had in order to get him out of here. She has no records and they'll be looking for ways to get her, now if you want to keep her here? She's going to have to give you _proof_ that everything she's told you is true."

"Proof?" Bucky echoes and Steve follows up.

"You were listening?"

"How exactly are we going to get proof if there's no record?" Bucky questions but Tony isn't looking at either of them, he's looking at the hard expression on your face. How you remain rooted to your seat and as if everything he's said has rolled off your shoulders.

"You knew I was listening." Tony says, it's not a question but a simple fact. Steve turns to look between you and him.

"Yes." You don't miss a beat, unfazed by it all as you continue to lean back in your chair with your hands folding on your lap as you watch him. Focus sliding into place and you can hear your slow breathing, can hear the rapid heartbeat of Tony's.

"Why are you doing this?" The words come out but it sounds so slow to your ears as your focus remains in place. Words drawn out and slurred but to everyone else, it sounds perfectly normal.

"There's a lot of evil," Tony starts and you narrow your eyes. "But there's kind people, too." He's bluffing, lying, liar. You can hear his thoughts, completely overwhelming, shifting from one thought to another it's almost deafening. 

"You're lying." It comes out slow and you pull yourself to your feet, stepping closer to him and out of your peripheral you can see Steve tense, the muscles slowly coiling, ready to stop anything from escalating.

"I will not be your redemption, Stark." Your voice is cold, hard, and Tony's eyes flick away from yours for the briefest moments before he defends himself.

"Who said I was looking to redeem myself?" He fires back but there's a slow smile on your face and he looks into your eyes.

"You did."

His arrogant expression drops and you can see there's something behind his eyes, a fear.

"You can read minds?" His voice comes quietly.

"To some extent," Your focus bleeds away, and it almost feels like hitting a fast forward button, everything snapping back into place quickly. "But not the extent of you friend." [Color] eyes drift over to the door that slides open and Wanda is standing there, looking thoroughly uncomfortable as she plays with the rings on her fingers.

"What is she doing here, Tony?" Steve demands, not having wanted to drag anyone else in that didn't need to be, but Tony only takes one last wary glance at you before looking between Steve and Wanda.

"We need proof, but because we have no documentation we're going to have to go straight to the source." He looks from Wanda to you, and there's a growing sense of _panic_ in your chest that you swallow down. You know what he's asking, and you're not sure you want to let them do that.

"It's either obtain proof so that when Thaddeus calls we have _something_ other than just her word. Or they'll be lining up to get her, I'm sure."

"They have no proof of anything, though." Steve argues, "You even said so yourself."

"Unfortunately, it was only enough to get rid of the delegate, if they label her as a potential terrorist they can take her into custody, without any proof. From there, they'll just keep her there."

Steve and Tony look at you at the same time and you purse your lips. The odds were unfavorable, but if you ran now as much as your instinct screamed to, the Avengers would be after you and you'd only give the United Nations a reason to go after you.

"You plan to just, invade my memories?" You finally ask, and Steve's eyes are wide. 

"Wait what?"

"Wanda here can use her red voodoo magic to project your memories. Where," He motions to the camera in the corner of the room. "The camera can capture it, and it may not be considered solid evidence, but it should be enough. Or," Tony says turning to you as if sensing your desire to argue, or flee. "You can leave now and have everyone looking for you, your face is nationwide now."

"What about T'Challa's offer?" Bucky finally says but there's a growing despair in your chest.

"He's king of Wakanda, and they have stated they will declare war against Wakanda if he tries to house a potential hydra terrorist threat. The smart King-ly thing to do would be to let her go." Tony finally turns to you and sees the hard expression on your face, the narrowed eyes and crossed arms. "It's either this or running from the whole world who's looking for you."

"Fine." You snap out, "What do you want me to do?"

"Take a seat." Wanda says carefully, and you slump back into your seat, avoiding the stares of everyone. Anxiety wells up into your stomach and it makes your fingers twitch, your leg bounce. 

"Lean your head back." She requests quietly and you do as you're told, head resting on the back of the seat wasn't exactly comfortable but her hands are near the side of your head.

"Alright," Tony starts and with a few quick motions the curtains in the room are closing, the brightly lit room turning dark. It makes it difficult to see anyone, see where they are as they shift in the room and it makes you feel better and not all at once. Unsure of where they are but knowing that they can't see you, either, brings a small amount of comfort.

"Video is recording," Tony's voice fills in and there's a bunch of movement in chairs and it's safe to assume that everyone has chosen to sit back down. "Whenever you're ready, Wanda."

"Close your eyes, and focus." Red smoke bleeds from her fingers and fills up her eyes as she looks down at you. "You can close your eyes, relaxing will make this easier." She says it softly to you, and you allow your eyes to flutter shut, hands gripping the armrests forcing themselves to relax.

"Pick a memory," She says aloud and the red begins to bleed in the room, swimming through the air until it forms a circle above the table. 

"Let's start from the beginning." Tony suggests and you understand what it means but your thoughts which are no longer your own filter through the red

 _"The beginning?"_ The voice in your head fills up the room so everyone can hear it, quiet, unsure. 

"Just relax and pick a memory, when you've thought of one above the rest I can grasp it." You get the feeling that she isn't quite sure how to explain what she means, to explain something you simply _do_ yourself is difficult but you try and relax. It's only when you feel yourself drifting between sleep and wake that voices and images light up the red, projecting what you remember.

_Pain blooms in the center of your chest, just between your ribs and pulls you from the darkness, breathes life back into you and it's only when you sit up with a startled breath that the colors all bleed back into place. It's difficult to breathe for a moment and fear immediately pulses with every heartbeat as you take in your surroundings._

_"Where?" Your voice sounds so much younger than it is now, filled with fear, filled with _emotion_ so raw. "W-Where am I?" You're talking to yourself, a habit you hadn't grown out of at the time, a way to reassure yourself back then._

_"M-Mr. Romanov?" Your voice trembles and there's an overwhelming feeling of fear that rips through you as you look down at your lap, the blood pooled onto your gown sends you into a frenzy. Hands moving across your torso, along your body looking for the wound that coats your dirty gown._

_Painful sounds bubble past your throat as tears blur your vision and spill over and down your cheeks. The hole in your gown scares you as much as the blood does, but fear makes you move. Brings you to your feet as you cautiously look around, it's dark, the stars and moon are your only source of light. The ground is cold beneath your feet, the summer breeze plays with the loose fabric of your gown and the long [color] strands of your hair. The wind rustles the leaves of the trees behind you and it spurs the heart pulsing fear, fear that something was out there and was ready to snatch you up._

_Stumbling feet move forward, clutching the hole in your gown as you move forward, guided by the moon's light. Your breathing is heavy, erratic and muffled sobs smothered by your hand as you continue to move forward, unsure of where it would take you._

_It's so dark, and the goosebumps across your skin aren't from the weather. Fear drives you down a familiar pathway but you're constantly looking over your shoulder, if anyone were to see you like this, so indecent you would never be able to return back to your home with the Romanov's._

_With a trembling and bloody hand, you knock on the door, fear of being out, fear of angering the head of the house. Fear of the shame you were going to be presented with, fear of so many things swims in your head and you stifle another sob, smothering it with your hand. It's only when the door opens and the horrified sound breaks your thoughts that you look up to see the head of the house, his horror matching your own._

_"Sire, I-I-" You desperately tried to explain how you had ended up outside the house at this hour but you're drawing a blank, the memories won't surface. Only a painful sensation against your chest where the hole in your gown is._

_"Witch." He mutters and you freeze in your place, eyes wide._

_"What?" You knew better than to talk back but what was he saying? Was he calling you a witch? You didn't know how you got outside sure, but that didn't mean-_

_"I stabbed you!"_

_The entire thought process derails in an instant and for a moment you can only stare at the man who had bought you. People, other servants are gathering behind you as well as the family who owned you. Had he stabbed you? What? Trembling fingers clutch the hole in your gown._

_"She's back from the dead, I stabbed her when she tried to seduce me!"_

_His accusations sting, why was he calling you a witch? Why is he saying you tried to seduce him? Fear grips your core but a sudden pain in your head makes it difficult to think._

_"I don't-" You cry out in anguish, "I don't understand!"_

_There's something hard hitting you in the face that sends you toppling over, and through wide eyes, you watch him as he advances. Backing away in fear, was he planning to kill you? You didn't do anything!_

_"Run!" You can hear the familiar voice over the murmurs of the other and you don't wait to be told twice as the axe between his hand swings down. Backing away just enough to avoid the swing before scrambling to your feet and without another glance back your bare feet take you away. Through the trees and you keep running until your lungs burn and it's only when you trip over an angled root that you collapse to the ground._

_You were so confused, what was happening? Was this a nightmare? Why? Why? Why was he attacking you? You hadn't done anything wrong, you couldn't think of anything you had done-_

_It hits you like the backhand to the face he had given you, a glimpse of him over you, hand slipping beneath your gown and the struggle. The pain before the world goes black and you sit up just in time as the wave of nausea hits you, everything you had eaten spilling out._

_"He-" Another wave of nausea rips through you and you heave up more contents of your stomach, followed shortly by more saliva and finally air until your stomach is empty. "He pushed himself on me." You try to comfort yourself, try to tell yourself it isn't your fault but maybe if you had.. Maybe if you had let him you wouldn't be out here._

_"[Name]!" The voice is familiar and at first, you're terrified that he had followed you to finish what he didn't before, scrambling away and behind a tree, as you clutch your gown and use the ends to wipe away the remains of vomit from around your face._

_"[Name], it's me honey." The familiar voice is quieter this time, and you recognize it. Peaking from beyond the tree and she spots you almost instantly._

_"Oh, [Name]." She rushes to your side, pulling your face into her hands as she checks you over. Tears welling up in your eyes and spilling over until you're nothing but a sobbing mess. A loud wail muffled by her chest as she pulls you close and rocks you back and forth._

_It's awhile before the sobs slowly turn to hiccups and she reluctantly lets you go, her dark skin a clash against the light gown she was wearing._

_"What's-" You begin, hiccuping and rubbing at your face with the palms of your hands. "What's happening?"_

_"Oh, sweetheart." She presses the hair away from your face and leans over so she's eye height with you. Searching your [color] eyes before a pained expression filters onto her face. "The sire, he tried to force himself on you, we all saw it. Saw you struggling to get away and then he-" She purses her lips, and a hand presses to the hole in your gown. "He did this to you."_

_"How?" You question, and not so much the fact that he had stabbed you but how you survived from it._

_"Oh sweetheart I don't know, you have someone watching over you that's for sure."_

_"When can I go back?"_

_A look of pain crosses her face and she presses her hands to the sides of your face, warm and steady._

_"Sweetheart, you can't."_

_Fear crosses your expression but before you can even think, begin to panic she's already speaking._

_"Shh, shh. The sire is saying some awful, awful things about you sweetheart. Things people are gonna believe, things people are gonna wanna hurt you for."_

_"H-Hurt me?" Your voice has risen an octave, fear makes your heartbeat rapid, makes your fingers tremble, makes your legs weak._

_"Yes, baby. They're gonna wanna do horrible, awful things to you because of the things he's calling you, but don't believe any of it, not for a second."_

_"I'm scared."_

_"Good," She lets go of your face and grabs both your hands in hers, bringing them between the two of you and clutching your hands tight. "That fear will keep you alive, keep you safe. Listen to it, but don't let it consume you."_

_"Where am I gonna go?"_

_"Far away baby girl, as far as you can go. The people here are gonna be looking for you, and they'll do awful things if they find you. You must survive."_

_"B-But why?"_

_"Because you're a special child, more special than you could ever dream of. Someone has plans for you, big ones and until then you need to survive."_

_"Will you come with me?"_

_"Oh baby I would, but I can't leave my own family."_

_You knew she would say that but it still hurts, the fresh spill of tears breaking the woman's heart as she clutches you to her in another hug. Allowing the tears to spill freely and rubbing your back as the tears continue._

_"You need to change," She says suddenly and from the small pack she had brought along she pulls out clothes. Clothes that the sire's son had worn._

_"These are boys clothes." You say finally._

_"Boys clothes are gonna be easier to move around in baby girl. You don't have any time to be tripping and trying to keep a dress pretty." She helps you undress and put the clothes on, it feels weird, feels awkward and you want to comment but she's grabbing your hands again and slipping something in between your fingers._

_"Don't look back baby girl, once you start running don't look back."_

_You look down at the small design in your hand, rusted metal with an odd symbol you don't recognize._

_"My mother gave me that, it's a protection charm." She says and smooths your long hair. "Keep it, may it keep you safe."_

_The silence in between you is stifling, and you don't know where you plan on going, how you plan to survive but you know you have to. An instinctive feeling that you needed to survive, to keep going._

_"I'll miss you." It comes out broken, as broken as you were feeling and she leans and presses a kiss to your forehead. The only real mother figure you had, the woman who had raised you when you had been brought to the Romanov's home. Who taught you everything with a kind and loving hand, and patience._

_"I'll miss you too, remember you will always be apart of my family."_

_It brings a feeling of warmth where you otherwise felt empty, but she's pushing you forward._

_"There's a search going for you, you need to get moving."_

_You want to say something, anything, but the words don't come. You don't know what you could possibly say to her so you don't. The small trinket is clutched into your hand as you take a step, looking at her once before she gives you a nod and a brave smile._

_"You're gonna be just fine."_

_With trembling fingers and a jerky nod of your head, you disappear into the trees. The sound of your footsteps fading the further and further you went until there was nothing left but the blood rags of your old life at her feet._

There's a heavy silence in the air as they watch the memory slip in and out, you hadn't thought about her in a long time. The woman you had considered a mother figure, who laughed and cried with you, who had taken care of you when you had arrived there so scared at first. She had picked you up from day one and had given you the best advice of your life. If only she knew just what started, how you'd still be alive even now.

"You can," Tony clears his throat and you hear him through the sifting haze of your state. Not quite asleep but not quite awake, more peaceful than you've felt in a long time and you wonder if it has to do with Wanda's ability. "Maybe one closer to Hydra?" 

The red shifts around your head as you sigh, the beginning of hydra or the middle of it? You couldn't assume that they would believe if you just showed them random events within Hydra. Nor did you want to.

_They had found you again, and fear drove one foot in front of the other as you ran. Dodging the branches that stuck out along your path, the crunch of snow beneath each footfall and your heavy labored breathing the only noise to accompany you. The cold winter air nipped at any exposed skin, made your limbs feel numb and each step felt heavier than the last._

_The whistle alerts you but you're not fast enough to move out of the way, numb limbs make it difficult to force your body to move and as a result, the arrow hits you through the chest. A gasp tears its way through your throat and you stumble and hit the ground, numb fingers aching against the frozen snow beneath them as blood begins to pour from the wound. One hand reaching up and wrapping around it and without looking you yank at the arrow, it snaps in half and to your horror there's still a piece inside. The warm blood dripping down your torso clashes against the cold winter weather and [color] eyes look down at the piece of the arrow in your trembling fingers._

_It's hollow._

_They had done it on purpose, hollowed out the arrow so when it pierced you the blood would flow out rather than staunch the wound._

_They were trying to bleed you out._

_Fear seizes you, ripping off the jacket you have with jerky movements, wrapping it around your torso to attempt and staunch the remains of it. Your heart is pounding, the fear makes it worse, the blood continues to drip out of the open piece and unless you find shelter there's no time to dig it out._

_With one final tug at the knot, you let out a strangled gasp from the pain, pulling yourself up on trembling legs to keep moving. The blood soaks the white snow and even with your makeshift bandage the blood still drips, still leaves a trail with every step._

_Breathing hurts, coming out in short gasps that send sharp spindles of pain through your body. But instinct keeps you going, fear keeps you going._

_There's a second whistle and your leg is struck and you crumble to the ground with a startled cry that's quickly muffled into the snow._

_"Oh please, oh please no." Tears build up into your eyes, desperation floods into your system as you lift yourself up onto your knees and collapse back onto your butt, bloody fingers reaching for the second arrow against your thigh and this time you snap one end off and pull the other out. The wound heals instantly and you push yourself back to your feet, vision spotty against the blood you've already lost._

_The world tilts as you stumble to the left, hoping for the cover of more trees. The front of your clothes soaked in the blood and you can feel your own heartbeat, the rapid thumping of it and each breath feels like you've pressed your lungs against glass. Your movements are jerky but you press forward, vision spinning and tilting and if you had eaten anything these past couple weeks you were sure to have thrown it up._

__Don't let them find me, not again. _You plead, hoping that whatever had given you this ability hadn't completely abandoned you. Each step feeling like lead, more difficult to lift one foot up in front of the other._

_A particular violent sway knocks your sense of vertigo completely and you collapse to the ground. It's difficult to breathe, to get oxygen into your lungs and for a moment the world goes black as you collapse back onto the snowbank. Blearily you can feel someone, something, and through the shock of blood loss, you only feel fear grip onto you as you catch the blurry images of their forms before death takes you._

__Where will I be when I wake up? __

_When the life returns to you, there's the smell of rot and decay and it immediately makes you want to vomit. Limbs chained down to an all too familiar table and the bag over your head is removed when they see that life has finally returned._

_"We'll bring him back." The whisper soothingly, stroking your face and you immediately attempt to jerk away._

_"And it'll be through your sacrifice."_

_He drives the blade home straight into your chest and it kills you instantly._

"Stop, stop!" It's Steve, this time, unable to handle the images, unable to _watch_ any more of what's going on. He feels sick, feels the emotions you felt, terror in his veins, desperation, resentment.

"Can we move on? To something that actually gives us proof? We're just, torturing her here." He's agitated, a restrained anger in his voice and you're sure he's clutching the armrests.

The memories mean nothing to you, another lifetime passed, people who weren't even alive anymore. You weren't sure where to look? Where else did they want you to go?

"Hydra," It's Bucky's voice that makes your heart race in the dark, a strained infliction to it that tells you he was just as pleased at the most recent as Steve was. "Start with Hydra."

"Start with you?" Tony clarifies, but there's no bite to it only the squeak of a chair as he reclines into it.

"Fine. Start somewhere in Hydra, and not.. Hydra's beginning."

Wanda's hands are trembling against your temples and you know she's visibly affected by the memory herself and you wonder just how much energy she has left for this, but before you can really ponder it the memory of choice is pulling up and you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep.

_"[Name]," You don't need to look at him to recognize the disgusting voice of the vermin. "We have a mission for you." His hands are on your shoulders and you refrain from tensing beneath his touch, [color] eyes staring at the floor._

_"What mission, Dr. Zola?"_

_There's a pleased noise from the back of his throat that disgusts you, makes the edges of your mouth twitch but you keep yourself still, keep your hands and body completely still._

_"There are some nuisances in our plans, and we need you to go to where they are hiding and eliminate them." His hands are in your hair, combing through the long locks before he takes a fistful and yanks your head back._

_"Failure is not an option."_

You struggling against the sleep, to keep hold of the memory but you're so exhausted. From running, from fighting, from the countless nights you've stayed up that you can't remember when the last time you slept was. The images against the red haze distort, flicking through different memories.

"Wanda." Tony's voice instructs and she twitches her fingers, the red in her eyes glows as she begins digging herself. Pulling up different memories, watching as they flick across the red hue of her magic.

_"This is James Buchanan Barnes, a close friend to Captain America." Armin Zola introduces and you only step forward enough for the person strapped to the table to flick their eyes to you, pleading eyes meet your cold ones._

_"We are testing the results of our modified serum on him, we're hoping for great results!" There's such enthusiasm in his voice and you only watch with a detached expression, he wouldn't survive, the others didn't._

_"I have come to inform you that the "Captain America" approaches." You finally speak, turning to him and watching as the doctors face contorts to rage._

_"You need to leave, if they find you we will be done for. The escape hatch, head there and leave with the soldiers, I will meet up with you later." His voice is stern and you bow your head in compliance before taking one last look at the pleading soldier strapped to the table and exiting the room._

You feel like you're drifting through space, a weightless feeling pulls and tugs you in different directions, memories float past but the comforting lull keeps you from reaching out to them. You're content to drift in this place forever, nothing harms you and nothing touches you.

_"Don't eat that," You snap quietly, watching as the Winter Soldier paused just before putting the spoon into his mouth. "Put it back down on the tray." He stares at you curiously and your heart is hammering, glancing around at the tables to make sure none of the others heard you._

_"Put it on to my plate." You shove your tray forward and he's staring at you warily, glancing around the room and in one swift motion he places the small bowl of soup onto yours and your empty bowl back onto his plate._

_"Why?" He finally questions, staring at the empty bowl you put onto his tray and for a moment he thinks you just wanted seconds and didn't feel like asking._

_"Poison." You say quietly, loud enough for only him to hear and his eyes snap to yours. "Hydra," You keep your head down, twirling the contents of the bowl. "Hydra doesn't waste time on soldiers who can't figure out the difference."_

_He glances around the room to some of the more seasoned soldiers in the room, the soup all left untouched while the newer ones are all empty._

_"It's only when there's an influx of new people." You say and he snaps his eyes to you as you lift the bowl to your lips, a certain type of horror crossing across his face as he watches you down the substance in one go. His horrified expression meets your own and you set the bowl down, wiping at your mouth and hoping you don't vomit it up. The distinct taste of their poison always let you know which food they decided to toss it in each time._

_"Why did you?" His voice is colored with disbelief._

_"I can't die."_

Bucky watches the red haze of memories with a clenched jaw, head resting in his hand as he's unable to tear his eyes away from the screen, watching as the memory fades and the search for another begins. Images flicking back and forth until one settles into place.

_It's a cold winter morning when he returns from another mission and there's a fire in your bones when you see him. When his expression relaxes just a fraction to know you're there and it only furthers the fuel within your veins. Makes the blade hidden in the front part of your pants feel that much colder against your skin._

_"Welcome back." You say quietly and he stands in front of your form as they take his guns away from him, before exiting down the ramp and back into the warmth of the building._

_His blue eyes search your own and the broken smile spreads across your face, fingers twitching and his eyes catch the motion._

_"They want to see you."_

_"I don't want to forget." He responds quietly, looking down at your twitching fingers before looking at your face._

The memory surfaces through the dark haze you're floating in, and panic fills up your veins as you struggle against it, struggle against the sleep that's engulfed you and probably fueled by the girl digging into your brain. You can't move your limbs, feeling oddly detached from your body as you begin screaming in your own head, desperate to keep them from seeing. From knowing.

_It's like a punch to the gut and anger roars to life inside you, your eye burn against tears and he can see the red forming in your eyes and there's a desperation that flashes across his face as he removes the mask._

Bucky can feel the gut wrenching feel, a pounding in his head as bits of the memory come back. The pained look on your face, how the red bled into your eyes before they got glassy. 

_"I know." Your voice sounds broken, breathless and you press your forehead against his chin and close your eyes, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze._

_"He's waiting." You finally say and step back to see a type of despair in his eyes for the briefest moments as he tries to carve in each piece of you._

_"Come." You finally instruct, letting go of his hand to turn away and head down the ramp. Hand moving to the blade pressed firmly against your stomach, he doesn't see the hard look to your eyes, doesn't see the way your lip twitches down in a snarl._

_Your footsteps are quiet and his are heavy against the old metal of the encampment. He follows you without a word, without resistance, trying to not make things more difficult than they are but you stop before the door and tilt your head back. He wants to ask what's wrong but his lips don't move, but there's a fear that begins bubbling into his chest and it's not a fear for himself._

_The door opens and you are greeted by the scientists in the room. Motioning for the Winter Soldier to take a seat at the forsaken chair, and you step aside to let him go, a bitter smile on your face as he glances back at you once before his heavy footsteps take him down the small staircase and over to the large opening in the room, where he reluctantly sits down._

_"Mission report."_

_You wait, watching with twitching fingers and nerves that almost make your entire body tremble. Listening to him report his mission, you wait for them to strap him securely into the chair, wait for the process to begin and listen to his pain-filled cries. It's only when it silences and his head goes limp, blacked out from the procedure that you move._

_Your hand travels beneath your shirt to brandish the weapon, you know what will await if you fail and you're not afraid of it but you're afraid of losing him. Waiting until he lost his memory so you could take him out of here and get him far away, so he can start over again._

You're screaming in your head, struggle against the induced sleep, yanking at the confines of it. Begging to keep it a secret that if she can hear you at all to stop, to switch to something else.

_The first guard starts the domino effect as you turn on your heel and your knife draws against his neck. Blood hits your face, stains your clothes and you're moving with such anger, such raw pain that even the hail of bullets doesn't stop you. Doesn't stop one foot in front of the other, doesn't stop the momentum that keeps you going, the pain in your chest at losing him again._

_The second guard by the door opens fire again, filling your body with holes but you hadn't shot yourself repeatedly before Bucky had arrived for your healing factor not to kick in. The bullet holes fill before the pain even registers and you drive the blade into the guard in one fluid motion, the body sags against you and you toss it off, ripping the knife from their abdomen and turning on your heel to the other guards in the room._

_You don't cry out in pain when more bullets hit you, your footsteps for once are heavy, hard against the concrete in the room as you run toward the other guard. The bullet to the head only momentarily stuns you thanks to your pre-planning to make sure that your ability would kick in fast._

_There's a pulsing in your head, momentarily blinded by darkness before everything floods back into view and you're still running from the momentum, and your knife drives it home, digging into his neck and down his chest. Teeth bared in anger, in pain as you turn to the new head scientist who cowers in fear behind his coworkers and you're moving again. Foot hitting the rail and propelling you forward as you land in the lowered area with a tuck and roll, the scientists scatter and you're lunging toward the head and he screams as you hit him, your blade into his chest and you don't waste time. Hefting yourself off of him and toward the others._

Wanda struggles against you, against your fighting and can hear your screaming and bites down on her lip. "Tony-"

"Keep going." But it's Bucky who responds instead and she looks down at you with a pained expression.

_The others drop after, you're heaving and there are tears in your eyes, blood on your face, in your hair, on your clothes. The knife drops from your hand and you turn to Bucky, stepping over the forms and wiping the blood away from your face, not realizing you've just smeared it more and his eyes are open, watching you. Looking at the carnage._

_"Who are you?"_

_"I'm-"_

The scream rips through your throat and startles everyone into the room, a kick to the table in front of you distorts the red haze of memories and you yank Wanda's hands away from your head. The lights in the room flood on and everyone squints against it, looking at your heaving form.

"Are we done?" You bite out looking at all of them, obviously shaken and Bucky's staring at you, you can feel it but you refuse to look at him. Fingers trembling and you press them together momentarily and drop your head down and brace your arms on your knees.

No one says anything, Steve tries but Friday's voice immediately fills in the room.

"Mr. Stark, Thaddeus Ross is on the phone."

"Right okay, we have what we need." He doesn't say anything more, you're trying to keep the trembling away and he spares you one last look before exiting the room, Wanda who's hesitant immediately follows after, upset about the images she forced you to relive.

The chair squeaks and you glance up but keep your head bowed and see that it's Bucky. You swallow down hard but refuse to look at him, refuse to look at either of them.

"Who are you?" His voice is shaken, almost like he's in pain.

A small chuckle brushes past your lips and you wipe a hand down your face and without a missing a beat you respond.

"I'm nobody."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of long?? Not sure if it's that good but a necessary chapter, none the less. It's got some minor pieces that are actually pretty crucial. It's also got some flashbacks to your memories. I hope it's not too terrible.
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful comments and to all of those who continue to leave a kudos, thank you so much. ♥♥


	14. All Dogs Go To Heaven

"You know Buck." Steve doesn’t ask and he knows it’s a fact, that you both do. His face is stern but curious and you don't look up at him, leaning forward on your knees and staring at the ground you don't respond, don't want to, you know where the questions will lead to.

"I was his handler." It's not a lie but not entirely the truth, either. Or maybe it was, maybe you were a scapegoat for him during bad times, something he clung to when everything else felt like it had gone to hell, just as you had clung onto him, it’s probably why he only has nightmares of you. The thought makes you swallow hard and close your eyes, letting out a shuddering sigh.

"There's more to it," Steve starts and he's staring at you with a long forlorn expression, and your hands tighten into fists and your lips purse. "Why don't you want to tell us?"

Anger builds up like a slow churning fire, smoldering coal beneath ashes lighting up once more as you breathe out. "Do you want me to?" You start finally lifting your head up to stare Steve in the eyes. "Do you want me to force him to remember everything, bring back every memory?" Your expression is hard, and your tone is biting, filling up with the fire that burns anew. "I can bring back _vivid_ memories, do you want to force that?"

"No, I-" He starts, frustration drawing his brows together.

"Then _be quiet_." You bite out, and his frustration mounts into anger as well.

"We're just trying to help you!" He finally raises his voice and it only brings back your instincts. The instinct to fight because running wasn't an option and adrenaline makes your hands shake, makes everything sharp.

"Help me?" Your voice comes out slow and you stand to your feet with a scowl ripping onto your face. "Don’t throw that bullshit lie in my face, you’re looking to help yourselves! I was fine until you all decided to track me down and turn me into a fucking _terrorist_!" Your hands shake in anger and Steve rips open his mouth to counter but you aren't finished. "If you had just _left me alone_ I wouldn't be in this situation to begin with! I wouldn't need your fucking _help_ because your help is the reason why I'm here!"

"We wanted to track you down to-"

"To what?!" You finally shout, and it's been so long since you've raised your voice and you aren't sure if that's a good or bad thing. No more screaming and tied to a chair, but how long would it be before that cycle repeated? "So you could fight me off and chase away his nightmares?!" You threw your arm gesturing to Bucky and your own words hit deep in your heart but the sting doesn’t stop you. "So you can slay the _hydra agent_ and he can get a good nights sleep?! Or maybe information about hydra which, I have no information about. I was their lab rat, not their informant!" You seethe out and there's fire in your blood, fire in your bones and smoldering behind your eyes. "If you've come to me looking for information you're shit out of luck."

"We didn't mean for it to turn out this way." It's Bucky who's speaking and your fire lit yet ice cold eyes land on him, the scowl on your face doesn't lessen and you watch as he clenches his jaw, see the subtle movement in his cheeks.

"You should have thought of that long before coming after me." You finally spit out.

"Well this sounds like a fun family feud." Tony’s voice chimes in over the speakers and everyone falls quiet. “Cap, I need you down here, there’s.. something you should know.”

There’s a brief moment where he purses his lips and looks over at you with a hard stare that you return with a scowl.

“Alright, on my way.” He breathes out with a sigh before running his hand through his hair.

“I’ll be right back.” He moves away from his spot and you curl your hands into fists, hearing the door slide open and shut behind him before collapsing into your chair like the fire that had kept you going suddenly was snuffed out. Resting an elbow onto the arm rest and covering your face with your hand, you didn’t want to be left here, not with Bucky. Your heart pounds heavy in your chest and your leg begins to bounce as you purse your lips, peering through the cracks of your fingers you can see his figure shift before sitting down himself.

“Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet and it aches, it tears a hole into your heart and reminds you of the quiet times in the middle of the night where he would ask that, followed by dozens of questions and it’s no different now.

It hurts.

“I’d prefer you didn’t,” You bite out, chewing on the inside of your lip and shutting your eyes. You didn’t want the questions, didn’t want the small reminders, you needed to get away. Hydra wouldn’t stop looking for you, if you were here they would attempt to go after him again, he had been too valuable in the past to simply let go and cut their losses, especially after everything he had achieved overtime. And you couldn’t free him a second time, it was likely they wouldn’t even put you in the same facility if they had recaptured you both. Trying to find out which one he was in would have been like finding a needle in the haystack, and that’s if they ever decided to let you roam free again. Worst case scenario you’d be tied to a table and experimented on until you went insane. Again.

“Why did you let me go?”

A sigh brushes past your lips and you drag your hand down your face partway so your chin rests in your hand and look at him through your bangs.

“I told you, pity.” Your response doesn’t seem to be what he wants, an expression flicks to life behind his eyes and he looks away and you can see the subtle clench of his jaw in his cheeks.

“I don’t believe that’s the reason.” His voice is quiet, no bite to it. Genuinely curiously like he had always been in the past.

“Believe what you want.” You spit out and look away from him, hoping that the two debating your fate would come back soon. Your chest ached and your stomach clenched in Bucky’s presence, making you shift uncomfortably.

“You seemed sad,” He starts and you flick your eyes back over to him and he’s staring at you again, waiting for your response and you only raise your eyebrows a fraction. “In your video to me.”

He watches your expression darken, watches a flicker of emotion ignite behind your [color] eyes that makes his stomach well with anxiety and you’re looking away and he isn’t sure if he wants you to look back at him, or continue looking away. He isn’t sure what he can get out of you to ease the sudden anxiety but an instinctual part of him knows that you are the key to easing it, regardless.

“I’ve been with Hydra for longer than you’ve been alive,” You finally press through clenched teeth, digging the nails on your free hand into your thigh. “I didn’t know what to expect, there was no sadness for you – don’t misunderstand that.”

“You were scared.” He attempts to clarify, hoping to gather what he could from you.

A chuckle erupts from your mouth and your shoulders jerk in response and his eyebrows furrow as he watches you. Scared? Of the world? No, you didn’t die, you would outlive everyone and eventually outlive what was left of this planet if things continued like this, if your ability never stopped.

“Sure,” You say glancing at him briefly. “Let’s go with that.”

Maybe you had been scared, scared that you’d never see him again, never see the small smile on his face and the humanity in his eyes. The way his jaw clenched when he did something he didn’t like, when he had to bite his tongue and keep his head down when his moral compass screamed to do this opposite. Scared you’d never see him again, see your own humanity again, you may be a lost cause but he wasn’t. He was your humanity, he gave you purpose when you had all but lost it for such a long time.

But now? You sneered to yourself, lips twitching down. Now you were scared to be around him, scared to provoke the things he didn’t want to remember, scared to be the _nightmare_ that woke him up in cold sweat. You were scared that Hydra would catch him because of your incompetence, because you couldn’t stay hidden, couldn’t stay away from him. You weren’t scared for yourself, you were scared for him.

“You could have left me, not freed me that day.” Bucky starts once more and you heave another sigh, pressing your head into your hands and hoping that maybe if you’re silent long enough he’ll stop prodding for answers he doesn’t need. He seems to remember some things, and if anyone had technology to get him to remember everything it would be Tony Stark with the help of the Wakanda King and all of his resources. Why did he need to hear it from you? For all he knew you’d just spout lies, did he really think you’d tell the truth?

“You didn’t have to help me the way you did.. in the car.. in the building.” His words trail off but you can feel his heavy gaze on you, focus slipping into place against your will and the whispers of his own thoughts at the edge of your conscious as you bury your head deeper into your hands and will away the noise. You didn’t want to hear him, didn’t want to hear his thoughts.

“Stop asking.” Voice muffled by your hands, hunched into yourself with elbows on your knees he can see the delicate lines of your shoulders, how frail you look, like the smallest touch would shatter your bones and your ability would just fix itself to shatter again. “You want answers,” He strains to hear your voice, barely coherent through your hands. “But I won’t give them to you.”

It strikes a type of frustration inside of him, an anger that sends him to his feet because he knows you, he saw the memories of things you’ve endured and that he’s forgotten, and he has the memories of you asking him to _trust_ you. What was all of that for then? Why involve him with your escape at all? Why not leave him? Did you figure they would send him after you if they kept him?

“You can’t hide the answers forever,” He starts, his voice coming out harsh and laced with frustration for answers he needed and had to know. You haunted his dreams at night, your touch burned against his skin leaving him breathless when he awoke with a start, and whenever he closes his eyes he can see you in that dark.

“Are you going to torture it out of me?” It feels like a slap to the face and a blow to the gut and he shudders to prevent himself from visibly recoiling when he hears those words. Anxiety welling in his stomach, a fear not for himself but for _you_ encasing him so tightly at the thought of torturing you, and that fear so gripping he simply stares wide eyed at you as you tilt your head up, dragging your hands only partially down your face so he can only see your uncovered eyes.

Hollowed, empty [color] eyes stare into his own surprised blue ones, he takes in the dark circles that linger, the slender fingers covering most of your face and the complete and utter _apathy_ in the face of something as serious as torture. But your fingers peel apart, allowing him to see the bitter smile on your face that spoke more than any word could ever express. A type of apathy, a hint of _try it, I dare you_ all wrapped into a twitch of your beautiful lips that sends his heart racing and makes him nervous all at the same time.

His mouth opens, but his mind remains blank as he stared at your form still seated and looking up at him, waiting for what he was planning to do next. Only when the door slid open did your expression change, hands dropped into your lap as you looked over at Wanda who stood awkwardly in the doorway, a twitch of a smile on her lips as she gave an awkward half wave at her waist, unwilling to untangle her hands from each other.

“I’ve come to get her,” She announces and Bucky furrows his eyebrows, had they decided already? “Did they decide?” Wanda looks confused for a moment and shakes her head before motioning to you once more. “No, I’m just.. she hasn’t washed in a couple days and I figured..” It suddenly dawns on him that Wanda was hoping to allow you the chance to change, and he nods his head once and she smiles at him before warily turning her eyes to your form. “I can.. take you to a shower.. get you some new clothes.”

You’re quiet for a moment, staring at her and she fidgets under your scrutiny before the smile on her face returns when you stand to your feet and walk over to her, saying nothing as she sends Bucky one last glance and smile and disappears into the hallway, door sliding shut behind you. Silence follows the two of you as she nervously leads the way, her hands twitching together and occasionally she glances back before looking forward and tucking her hair behind one ear. The weight of your gaze is like lead on her shoulders, unsure of your next move and why you haven’t said anything. Were you angry? Had she dug too deeply? Did you hate her for it? Thoughts swim through her head and she doesn’t even register that she’s already arrived in the spare room where they said it would be alright to take you and change, so when she comes to a stop and looks up from the floor, she almost gives a start when you finally break the silence, your voice is cold and it only matches the look in your eyes when she turned around to address you.

“How much did you see?” But no, that wasn’t quite the right way to word it, pursing your lips as you rephrased the question. “No, how much do you know?”

You watch as she looks away and her hands fumbled with the rings on her fingers, glancing at the ground before looking back at you, the slight squaring of her shoulders. You’re not sure how you could intimidate her, you know of her, know her power, but she feels so small and fragile in front of you, like she’s done something wrong and waiting to be scolded.

“I didn’t mean to see that much, your thoughts-”

“How much do you know?”

“I know why you left Hydra.”

It’s enough to basically mean she knows _everything_ and you glance away from her and it takes her by surprise, the look on your face as you shift from one leg to the other. An emotion flicks across your face and before she can say anything else you’re looking at her,

“If you tell anyone..” Your voice is low, quiet, but she knows the undertone, the promise in your words if anyone finds out it had all been for _him_. Had escaping Hydra even crossed your mind before he came a long?

“I won’t.” The own confidence in her voice surprised even herself, but she stands a bit straighter and held her head a bit higher. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

There’s no thank you, there’s nothing but the silent promise left in what you had said and after a brief moment of staring at each other you glance back away and cross one arm over your chest to hold onto the other. Wanda clears her throat once to regain your attention and motions toward the bathroom.

“There’s already towels in there, feel free to take as long as you’d like. I’ll go grab you some clothes and then wait out here when you’re finished.”

You don’t say anything as you trudge into the bathroom, don’t bother to glance back as you shut the door behind you and lean your weight up against the door with a heavy sigh. One hand dragging down your face as you stare at the open bathroom, spacious with a walk in shower and large tub to soak in. It’s all white, little color to accent the white save for the towels on the counter that are such a deep and vibrant red it’s hard to miss.

You don’t bother to wait any longer, it was the first time you’d had a bath in an actual shower in god knows how long. You had resorted to rivers, lakes, anything that pooled with enough slightly sanitary water to clean yourself up to prevent a smell from accumulating, but no money left your options very limited.

The water from the shower head isn’t even warm when you drop out of your clothes and step into it, the water is like ice on your skin and it’s painfully refreshing. Like every nerve is awake all at once, the haze of fatigue gone briefly under the cascade of cold water that wastes no time with getting you completely soaked. There’s even soap and shampoo for you to use as well, and with the suds of shampoo in your hair and water trickling down your body for a moment you allow yourself to forget everything. Forget about what lies ahead, what you had endured, you simply tilt your head back as the water massages the shampoo and dirt from your hair and for that moment the weight constantly on your shoulders is gone.

The bar of soap within your hand glides down your arm and you stop at your elbow turning your arm over and watching the suds of soap drip off your arm and the bar of soft brushes against the inner portion of your elbow where the needle once was. Where they had drugged you with some foreign substance that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around; Hydra had tried for _years_ to find something similar but they had never succeeded and in the few moments that you had been captured by the ‘Avengers’ they had? A frown dips the corners of your mouth down as you scrub angrily at the spot, nails dragging along with the soap as the red marks created fade away.

You indulge yourself for a moment longer, allowing the water to caress your body but as it begins to warm you let out a slow sigh, the invisible weight climbing back onto your shoulders that slump beneath it as you scrub away at the dirt and watch it all down the drain before your hand clamps onto the faucet head and abruptly the water has stopped and a brief shiver wracks your body as you step out and onto the cold tile floor. One hand grabbing the free towel and wrapping around yourself as you begin to dry off.

With pursed lips Wanda looked down at the clothes in her arms and heaves a sigh, she wasn’t really sure of your size and you had gone into the shower so quickly, and understandably so, that she hadn’t wanted to disturb you. So when the water shut off, her thoughts were so consumed on going in and asking you what size you were that she completely forgot to knock, the door opening enough to let her in as her eyes dragged away from the clothes draped over her arm to your completely bare form in front of her.

There was no embarrassment to be found for her, in fact she could only stare in horror at how incredibly _skinny_ you were, sickly so from the way she could see the your rib cage protruding from your skin. The indents of the bone and when you turned around she couldn’t say she was all that surprised to see it from the front as well. There was barely an ounce of fat on your form, your ribs protruding from the front as well, and your chest was almost non-existent, all the fat stored there burned away like the rest of it.

“I-” She’s horrified by your state, and it doesn’t even occur to her to apologize for walking in and for most of all _staring_. Maybe she’d think back on it but even then she doubted there would be any embarrassment in the face of reality to just exactly what you could survive, what you _did_ survive.

When was the last time you actually ate?

When you wrap the towel around yourself and shield away your malnourished form from view, Wanda blinks rapidly as if suddenly remembering what she had originally come in here for. The clothes she thought may be a bit too tiny on you was no longer an issue, you had worn baggier clothes than you actually needed, whether our of necessity for whatever reason or because it was the only pair of clothes you could get your hands on with no money.

“Here,” She starts abruptly, setting the clothes she had gathered onto the counter and a type of fear kept her from going in any further to give it to you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in.” And with that she quickly turns away, hand on the door handle to shut it closed behind her.

Everything floods back into focus and you breathe out a sigh, her thoughts swimming around in your head and you drop the towel and glance at your reflection. One hand moving up to trace the skin that held no memory of the torture it’s gone through, no scar left in it’s wake to tell the story of each torturous session, of each time you had fallen apart and regenerated. Only the bones from your sickly skinny form showed through, but this was as skinny as you’d get even though you couldn’t remember the last time you ate. To deteriorate any further would compromise muscle mass, and in effect it would deteriorate your health, so your ability simply didn’t allow it, this was a peak of physical perfection without the use of food and this is where your body would stay.

The clothes fit comfortably, a bit loose and you aren’t sure who’s they are. It could be the Black Widow woman or even possibly Wanda herself, they didn’t differ too much in style at least not that you had seen, but it was comfortable nonetheless. A pair of jeans that a bit loose but the belt you had on your previous pair quickly fixed that, the shirt being a neutral tone and she even left a comb to tangle out the knots that felt like it took an eternity to do. While it wasn’t particularly cold out, she had also left you a sweatshirt which you were inwardly more grateful than you could really express, feeling naked and exposed without something to help cover your body, the thinness of your arms and hands as you stuffed them into the front pockets after pulling it over your head.

You hadn’t felt this refreshed in a long time, and you let out a slow sigh before opening up the door and stepping out. Wanda was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the floor but she jerked it back up to look up at you, a small smile twitching it’s way onto her lips even if you didn’t return it.

“I-” You start as she stands and goes still, and your eyebrows furrow but you figure it wouldn’t hurt to ask anyway. “Who drugged me? Stark?” The smile gracing Wanda’s face immediately slipped away and she shook her head, looking immensely uncomfortable at the topic change- not that there had been a different topic to begin with..

“No, he suggested it but doesn’t have the medical background to do so..” She trailed off looking at you carefully, watching you stare at the ground as one of your hands drifts over to your elbow and clutches at the fabric covering it tightly, wadding it up in your fist.

“Banner?” You knew the avengers, knew who was in it and what they did. You may have been off the grid but you would have to be _stupid_ to not know the avengers and who was in it.

“No, he.. Didn’t want anything to do with drugging you up.” Wanda watches you tilt your head up, the furrowed eyebrows and drifting confusion lingers before you look her in the eye.

“Who?”

Wanda shifts, unsure if she should really say but after digging into your brain and forcefully finding out things you had never intended anyone to know.. Did she really have a right to refuse you?

“It’s not in Tony’s field but.. T’Challa did offer his top leading medical team to help when he had asked for it..”

Tony had asked for it and the King of Wakanda gives him people who can figure out how to drug you was it? Was the King trying to play good cop bad cop here? Your hands clench around your arm and even through the fabric you can feel the sting of your nails digging into your skin as you look away and glare down at the ground. 

If just this medical team was able to figure out how to keep you drugged for extended periods of time in such.. A small amount of time there was no doubt of what else they could do if they got the chance to study you longer. Was his intent really to help you? Or to help himself, his people, by finding out what made your ability tick? Your jaw clenches and the paranoia whispers into your ear, a gentle caress against your neck.

_He’s just playing you.. Getting you to trust him so he can use you later.._

You can’t help the anger inside you, the fury that threatens to boil itself over and spill out from within as you snarl down at the ground and fail to notice the concern on Wanda’s face. It’s only the knock at the store that turns your expression to steel and brings back the voice Wanda couldn’t muster to speak to you.

“Come in!” She calls and the door swings open revealing her twin standing there, his eyes flicking over his sister to make sure she was uninjured- that small flick of his eyes to make sure you hadn’t hurt her doesn’t escape your notice and you dig your nails harder into your arm. It’s only a brief moment, a split second that others may not have noticed before his eyes are back on you and there’s a small, strained smile on his face.

“They’ve made a decision.”

“Great.” You bite out sarcastically and the strained smile falls away from his face as he steps aside to allow you to walk by before Wanda follows behind before taking the lead. 

The walk is quiet, maybe uncomfortable as Pietro continues to twitch beside you, and you can’t say that you aren’t anxious but you’ve shoved your hands into the front pockets of the sweatshirt and your hands cling together, digging crescent marks into your flesh to keep them from twitching as you all walk into the room.

The screen is large, covers most of the room they’re in and everyone is standing there. T’Challa is there as well and his nod doesn’t escape your notice but you only look away, avoiding the urge to sneer in his direction as your eyes land upon the man through the screen who watches curiously yet patiently until you’re standing in between the twins. Steve and Tony are the closest to the large holographic screen, Natasha, Sam and Bucky were all standing off to the side and suddenly it felt like a trial. Two security guards on each side of you, hands locked in front of you, afraid to move them suddenly and the man behind the screen was the judge, sentencing you to your fate.

It made your throat tighten, made your breath still and it difficult to swallow down the urge to bolt out of the room and attempt for freedom. Your fingers twitch and your toes curl, the pupils of your eyes constrict when the man - Thaddeus Ross? - calls your name. You went from being a nobody, your name not even on records to suddenly feeling like the whole world knew your name, that everyone knew about _you_ but you hadn’t the faintest clue anymore. It brought an overwhelming sense of anxiety, but your expression remained apathetic - but the itch and twitch of your hands wouldn’t stop. You wanted to run, part of your brain _screamed_ to run, but he was still here - he could drug you up again and make sure you didn’t wake up- couldn’t he?

“It’s nice to finally meet you, [Name].” He starts and you seethe inwardly at it, the apathy you wore bleeding away into anger that marred your face and twitched against your lips.

“That’s not how your delegate felt, I was sure you’d want me drugged?” You spat out and the smile on Thaddeus’ face disappears and he lets out a sigh.

“About that.. That.. wasn’t one of our delegates I’m afraid. Our delegate wasn’t supposed to be there for another three days.” You don’t miss the ‘I-told-you-so’ look Tony shoots Steve, who ignores it in favor of looking between you and the screen. “I’m afraid to say that it seems.. Hydra may have established influences in more political areas than just S.H.I.E.L.D, like we originally thought.” You can’t help the disbelief that grows on your face, the welling anxious in your gut. They had been hydra? What?

“Hydra?” Is all you can manage to echo out and Steve looks incredibly uncomfortable, not that you cared much for Captain piss off and how he felt.

“I’m.. afraid so. I wanted to call you all personally to apologize. Tony had called me demanding to know why we had sent a delegate early, and there was some.. Understandable confusion. However, it became clear that who was sent was not who I had authorized.. It seems we still have a lot of cleaning throughout to do-”

“Where’s the so called delegate?” You demanded, heart pounding in your ears and you struggled to keep your focus from bleeding in. The whispers of their thoughts making it even more difficult to listen.

“He’s in custody.. He was apprehended on his way out of your facility there. However, due to the nature of things I hope you know we simply can’t let you just wander free.. Especially not with your unique ability, if Hydra were to get a hold of it once more-”

“Am I an object for you to keep?” It tears from your throat and the focus you struggled with fades away, leaving only an anger that seeps into you once more. The only thing keeping you going after so long, it continuously breathed life into your bones and spit fire when you felt you had nothing left to give. “I’ve dealt with Hydra before, in fact,” Your voice comes out biting and no one moves to stop you. “I believe I was dealing with it just fine _before you all broadcasted my location!_ ” It’s a shrill yell, that cracks halfway through and your shoulders are heaving, there’s an anger in your eyes and you don’t notice the wary look everyone is giving you as you sneer at the screen.

“I do not _need_ nor have I _ever_ needed the UN to help keep me safe! You have all imposed this on me, feeling like you are doing me a _favor_ , like I _owe_ you all something for _fucking everything up!_ ”

“[Name]-” Steve starts, his face stern like you were some child he could scold and that only further angered you, ripping your hands from the pockets and balling your hands into fists, you wouldn't hesitate to knock his fucking lights out if he came any closer. 

“Shut up!” You spat out, and watch as his expression turns disapproving and you only sneer at him in response before turning back to the real person in charge of this freak show.

“You can’t keep me here, you have _no right_. I’m not a citizen, I’m not apart of this fucking _country_ and I am certainly not a _terrorist_ when I was minding my own business before your dogs came chasing me down!”

“The United Nations have all sat down and discussed how to go about this in great detail after you were initially captured in Romania.” Thaddeus starts, calmly as he leans back into his chair. “It’s all been agreed upon that regardless of how things have.. Gone down in their attempt to gather information, that you are too much of a threat. So under an agreement of all.. We have elected that you should stay with the United States, as if you travel elsewhere Hydra has made it obviously clear they are willing to follow. The other Nations, countries, have all agreed that welcoming you into their borders would be a mistake if it means Hydra will eventually create a path to you.”

Horror begins to set in, a realization. “What do you mean?” You knew what he meant, you knew it was sealing your fate, but the words escaped anyhow.

“You are unwelcome in any other country, [Name].” Thaddeus says slowly, leaning forward and folding his hands onto the table. “We are the only one who will allow you refugee within our borders, if you’re found anywhere else you will be turned over to us. So we’re left with two decisions here, I don’t want to make you a prisoner, that doesn’t benefit either of us. However, if you refuse we aren’t left with much of a choice, so here are your options.”

You’re about to hyperventilate, you were trapped, if anyone found you anywhere else they would send you back here. _How did it turn out like this?_ Your fingers twitch, wanting so desperately to cry out and scream, claw at your skin until maybe you bled out and were freed from this mess.

“You can stay with the Avengers, work with us and help us track down other Hydra officers and locations, since I am going to guess getting rid of them means getting back your freedom..” You want to scream. “Or you can be arrested, here and now and locked up in one of our most secure facilities until we figure out a plan and move forward with it.”

Your eyes are wide, you want to scream, cry, you mostly want to _run_ and you can feel yourself beginning to tremble. From anger, or maybe even fear - you aren’t really sure at this point. Your heart is pounding and swallowing up your hearing, making it difficult to think, your breathing picks up, and you unconsciously take a step back, and the whole room takes a step with you.

It makes you so painfully aware of how _trapped_ you are, Hydra was looking for you and if you fled, you wouldn’t be welcome _anywhere_. You catch T’Challa’s long and stern stare as he stands at a parade rest and you wonder if he’d make good on his promise-

 _He drugged me!_ The small voice reminds you, reminds you that at any time if he feels like it you have nothing but his word to go by, that he could take samples of your blood as compensation for keeping you safe. He could find things out that Hydra never was able, he could _make_ things with that knowledge, things you didn’t even want to think about. You didn’t want to become another subject, you didn’t want to be another _prisoner_.

It’s a long drawn out silence as your trembling fingers are only noticed by Bucky who’s face strains as he watches you from his position on the side. A feeling to protect you so desperately that leaves him at a loss, unable to fathom why and unable to bring himself to move as he watches as everything seems to crumble before your eyes. A type of vulnerability he’s not sure anyone else notices in the way your pupils constrict, your fingers tremble and your shoulders hunch, entire body curling into itself.

He knew this had happened before, this look, this expression this ultimatum, but for the life of him he can’t remember and God! It frustrates him. He knows you, knows the small things you do, knows that you feel trapped, a caged animal unable to even fight back because it was either go willingly or be put down.

“I’m just supposed to take your word for it?”

Your voice comes out in a crack, hands at your side and the expression when your head tilts back up makes his chest ache so bad he moves a hand up to rub at it. His insides twist and churn at the resigned expression you wore, he knew that lifeless look in your eyes, the way your entire body straightened out like you were accepting your fate.

“No, of course not. We’ve prepared some legal documents.” Thaddeus says casually as Tony supplies a form with the ever small font that lists so many things that you aren’t even sure you want to read over.

“Exactly what is all this?” You don’t really care as the paper sits in your hand and you stare down blankly at it. Did it matter what was written? You couldn’t go anywhere, you were trapped, destined to be a guinea pig no matter what option you chose.

“Of course, due to your affiliation with Hydra willing or not we simply can’t allow you free roam as the other Avengers. So you’ll be assigned a handler.” It makes you laugh, a sharp condescending laugh at the _irony_ of it all. Thaddeus continues as if you hadn’t done so, “We’ve elected Natasha Romanoff to be your handler, she’s well trained and has no real personal connections to you unlike most, if not through someone else.” 

It made sense, there was logic behind it and your eyes flicked over to Romanoff who tilted her head to acknowledge the slight movement by you. “And?” You pressed looking back, wishing this nightmare would just end already. “I’ve been assured that you know what having a handler entitles so I won’t go into length about that, other than that you’ll be assisting the team in any way possible to reveal locations owned by Hydra and help take them down.”

You wanted to laugh, scream, tear at everyone in the room but instead you just let out a bitter, short laugh.

“So I’m the Avenger’s dog?” You spit out, as Tony hands you the pen, Steve looks utterly displeased at the expression you’ve used but before he can say anything, attempt to ease any concerns you’ve already crouched down and signed your name across the paper.

The only document of your existence.

Tossing the pen onto the table and pushing the paper away as you stand back up. The room remains silent, and Tony picks up the paper and you’ve literally just signed your life away and an empty feeling blooms in your chest and the fire that once boiled beneath the surface is frozen over.

You can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO IT'S BEEN AWHILE AND I'M SO, SO, _SO_ INCREDIBLY SORRY FOR THIS SUPER LONG WAIT! And a chapter that's probably not even worth your time. Orz. Please forgive me, after I finished those summer college classes things got really hectic, between family/continuing classes/work/and pretty much EVERYTHING my ability and time to sit down and write this story plummeted to zero. 
> 
> To any of you who are still patiently waiting, I appreciate you **so much** and thank you for waiting and continuing to read this story. To all of those who left comments, kudos' and all of that lovely stuff THANK YOU. I don't deserve it, but thank you, I read and continued to read all the comments you left even if I didn't respond to them.
> 
> HOWEVER, hopefully now that things have smoothed out (stresses on the hopefully) and that this chapter which I've been struggling with it since it came up, is now over, we can get back into a quicker set of chapter updates once more. No guarantee, but I won't leave you guys hanging for a couple months this time around. I plan to finish this story gosh darnit!!
> 
> Recently I went back over to re-read some of the other chapters and ohmygosh, guys, please, feel free to point out typos I found so many LOL. 
> 
> Anyway! Necessary filler chapter is necessary, hopefully you still all like it?
> 
> Let me know what you all think, and thank you for continuing to support this story. It means the world that all of you take the time to read it, bookmark it, subscribe, kudos and a HUGE thanks to all those who comment, especially those with long detailed reviews. They make my night, my day, my entire _week_ , I can't tell you how grateful I am for those who take the time to really let me know that you like this story and your thoughts, so please continue to do so. ♥


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